Leaving Lima
by HannahRose00
Summary: It's been a year since Noah Puckerman was convicted of drunk driving and hitting Rachel Berry with his car. Now Puck's back in Lima but Rachel still walks with a limp. Outsiders in Lima, the two troubled teens are able to find comfort in each other.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Hello everyone! My name is Hannah and I'm sort of a newbie when it comes to writing fanfiction. Anyways, I recently read a book called _Leaving Paradise_ by Simone Elkeles. It's become one of my favorite books so I decided to rewrite it with a Puckleberry twist. I really hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Puck_

"Puckerman!" A deep voiced man barked from outside my cell. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," I replied gruffly, turning to face the guard, Jerry, I think his name was. I sighed.

Three hundred and ten days. That's was the total number of days I'd been locked up in this cell. Hell yeah I was ready, ready for my freedom.

I took a deep breath and followed Jerry towards the room where the review committee would evaluate me. I'd have to be on my best behavior today, no funny business. If I messed up today I'd be stuck hellhole for three more months. Fuck that noise.

The DOC was complete and utter hell in my eyes. DOC, short for Ohio's Department of Corrections-Juvenile complex, was the last place I ever wanted to be. I'd been there for nearly a year now. Why you might ask? I was convicted for hit-and-run. I'd been driving drunk one night and ended up hitting a girl. That and the fact the judge just didn't like teenagers.

Jerry pushed opened the door and motioned for me to go in. I walked in carefully to meet the eyes of several stern looking members of the committee.

"Noah," a small woman wearing a suit addressed me. "Have a seat."

I look back at Jerry who nudges me forward towards the chair in the middle of the room. I take a seat and look down at myself. I'm still wearing my DOC jumpsuit along with the handcuffs they'd shackled onto my wrists.

"_Pull yourself together." _I thought to myself.

The same woman peered at me over her thick glasses. "As you know, we're her to evaluate you in hopes you'll be able to live as a law abiding citizen."

I nod. I'm being cautious today, one wrong move and I'm back in my cell.

A larger man sitting next to her stands up. "We're going to have to ask you some questions, son." He says. "Tell us about the night of the accident."

* * *

I winced as I thought back to that night. "I was driving home from a party. I guess I was drunk, I don't really remember, and then I lost control of the car. By the time I realized I'd hit someone I freaked out. I didn't know what to do. So I drove back to the party."

"Did you know this person?" The man asked. "The person you hit."

I sighed. "Yeah, her name was Rachel, Rachel Berry."

The man continued to stare. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared dangerously. I could tell he didn't like me too much. I bit my tongue to avoid saying something I'd regret. This guy was really getting on my last nerve.

The rest of the evaluation consisted of the committee members asking me every possibly question they could think of. Why was I drinking underage? Why would I drive home if I was drunk? Why did I leave the scene of the accident? I thought my brain was going to explode.

Finally when the questions are over the woman spoke again. "Well, Noah, do you have anything to say before we make our decision?"

This is it, I realized. It's now or never. "Frankly, ma'am, I never want to come back here again. I've paid my debt to society. Please, just let me go home."

The committee told me to wait outside while they made their decision and frankly I've never been more terrified in my entire life.

I never thought I'd ever find myself locked up in a juvenile detention center. Of course I knew I wasn't the best kid but I never thought I'd get myself behind bars. Everything in my life for the past year had been decided for me. I got told when to eat and when I'm aloud to have free time. I spent most of the time in a crappy rundown cell. Every night I tossed and turned wondering if I'd ever be able to sleep through the night again.

I needed to go home.

The woman came out again and told me the committee has made a decision.

When I walked back in, the tall man was staring at me. "The committee has come to the conclusion that based on your progress here; you are no longer a threat to society."

I keep my mouth shut, no matter how much I want to say something to this guy, I knew it wouldn't do me any good.

The guy continued. "We've decided to release you with the expectation that you will complete one hundred and fifty hours of community service."

I'm stood there in shock. Did he really say what I think he said? I'm being released. I'm really going back home.

"Really?" I asked in disbelief.

"You'll be meeting with your transition coach tomorrow. He'll keep track of your progress and report back to us." He says. "Don't mess this up, kid."

When I got back to my cell, Jesse was leaning against the wall.

Jesse St. James has been my cellmate ever since I've been here. He got busted for a while back for possession with intent to sell and probably could have been out of here sooner if it wasn't for his piss poor attitude.

"Word on the street is you're getting out of here." He smirked. "Lucky, bastard."

I smirked right back and give him a look. "Don't miss me too much."

"Yeah, yeah." He says. "You headed back home? The town with the stupid name, what's it called again?"

"Lima." I told him. "Lima, Ohio."

He pushed himself off the wall. Let me give you my cousin's number. If you're ever in a pinch, just give him a call. He'll hook you up."

"Thanks, dude."

"Later, man." He nods. "See you on the outside someday?"

"Yeah, man, someday." I said.

This is it I tell myself. After three hundred and ten days of this crap, I'm finally getting out of here. I'm finally going home.

Lima, here I come.

* * *

Author's Note: There you have it! First chapter is done. Just a heads up, each chapter will alternate between Puck and Rachel's perspective. Also for those of you who've read the novel, I'm going to change the story slightly, especially the ending. Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Wow! I'm completely amazed with all the story alerts and favorites I've received. I can't tell how much it means to me. Unfortunately out of all the alerts I've received only two of them were reviews. Pease leave a review if you get the chance! I promise chapters will come faster if you do.

Author's Note 2: Also for those who've read the story, I'll be making some changes in the plot and the characters. Like for instance in this chapter Emma's boyfriend Carl is a physical therapist instead of a dentist. Anyways on with the story!

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Rachel_

"Come on Rachel, just try a little harder. You can do it." Carl, my physical therapist, tries to encourage me.

'Tries' being the operative word.

It's not working, at all.

Actually, I'm really tempted to give Carl a good kick in the nether regions.

"Ow!" I screech when Carl pushes on my leg a little too hard. And then I remember, even if I wanted to kick him I wouldn't be able with my leg.

Life's really a bitch sometimes.

"Come on Rachel!" He cheers again as he positions my leg on his shoulder. "I believe in you."

If looks could kill, I'm pretty sure my physical therapist would've dropped dead by now. I sigh and try to put pressure on my leg but all I can muster is a pathetic baby push.

I groan in frustration and bite my lip when I feel the tears start to pool in the corners of my eyes. "I told you I can't do it." I snap at him.

Carl sighs and sits back down, rubbing his temples. "Come on Rachel you got to work with me. Remember when the doctors said there was a chance you'd never walk again? Well you've proved them wrong, so prove to me now that all your hard work hasn't been for nothing."

I look down at my legs and try to bend them. The pain in my left leg is excruciating. On a scale from one to ten the pain is probably an eleven. I think back to the past year. Surgery after surgery, physical therapy appointment after physical therapy appointment, it's been one long ride.

I don't know whether to scream or cry. Before the accident I was happy. I had friends, got good grades, and could dance circles around any girl. Now I can barely walk down the street without people staring and whispering about me. It's humiliating.

I sigh. Even though it pains me to admit it, Carl's right. The doctors' did say there was a chance I'd never walk again and here I am. Nothing I say or do will change anything so I might as well make the most of it.

"You're right. I'm sorry." I apologize to Carl. "You want me to try again?" I ask him carefully, praying he'll say no.

Thankfully, someone's looking out for me because Carl shakes his head. "No, it's alright let's wrap up this session."

I wince. Wrapping up the session consists of Carl massaging my leg muscles for a few minutes. For any other patient, it's probably the best part of the session but for me it's the worst.

I have a serious problem with people touching my scars. The red lines are dark and heavy from all the surgeries I had after the accident. I can barely stand to look at them let alone touch them. I've pretty much spent the last year in jeans and sweatpants even during the hot summer days. That's another thing I hate about the accident. Before I got hit, I used to wear skirts all the time. Now I can hardly stand looking at my legs.

After Carl finishes he grabs my paperwork and reads through it quickly. "According to your file, it seems as though you'll be leaving us for a little while." He says.

I give him a small smile. "Yeah, I got offered a scholarship to study in New York for a semester." I tell him.

"New York, huh?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "You are one lucky lady."

Lucky? Is he serious? Lucky people don't get hit by cars. Lucky people don't have to endure hours of painful physical therapy. Lucky kids have friends and walk normally.

I'm pretty much the least luckiest person on the planet.

* * *

After therapy I went to the diner where my mom, Shelby, works. I'll admit it's not the most glamorous job, but who I am to complain? She makes just enough money to put a roof over our heads and food on the table. Even Sue Sylvester, her boss, who in my opinion is the embodiment of evil, felt sorry for us after the accident. My mom says she's a total softy under her hard exterior but I'm not so sure.

As soon as I sit down and wait for my mom to bring out my dinner I see the doors open from the corner of my eye. Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce are walking arm in arm into the diner.

My mom recognizes them immediately and her eyes light up. "Oh look, honey!" She shrieks delightedly. "It's your friends!"

I grimace. Friends? More like ex-friends. Santana, Brittany, Sarah Puckerman, and I used to be friends. We were all on the dance team together. Unfortunately, after the accident we all drifted apart. Sarah blamed me for what happened to her brother. We were best friends up until that night, and then, just like that, we became total strangers.

My mom, however, was completely oblivious to our falling out. She motions for them to come over and the two girls reluctantly slide into my booth. I keep my eyes fixed on my food.

"Oh, girls, it's so nice to see you." She chatters absentmindedly. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." She's seems so excited, so I keep my mouth shut. "Oh look at me babbling, on. What can I get you girls?" She asks with a smile.

Santana and Brittany exchange looks before turning back to my mom. "We'll both have a salad." Santana tells her coolly. "No dressing."

My mom gives them a strange look before leaving to put in their orders. The two continue to chat with each other obviously pretending as though I don't exist.

I notice my mom is trying but failing to be subtle as she eavesdrops on our conversation.

Santana whips out a small compact. "So, I'm thinking about cutting my hair." She tells her bubbly blonde best friend.

Brittany cocks her head to the side. "Why?" She asks puzzled. "Your hair is so long and pretty. Like a unicorn tail!" She shrieks excitedly.

Santana gives her a small smile. "Aw, thanks Britt, but I want to look absolutely perfect for the party tomorrow."

At this point I'm ready to completely tune them out but unfortunately for me my mother is always ready with a new way to embarrass her daughter. "Oh, a party?" My mom asks smoothly. "Rachel, loves parties don't you sweetie." I give her a disbelieving look, which she ignores. "What kind of party is it?"

Santana and Brittany stop talking immediately. I highly doubt they were expecting my mother to get me invited to a high school party. "It's a back-to-school party, at Finn Hudson's house." Brittany says.

My mom sequels. "Oh wow that sounds like so much fun! Rachel would love to go, wouldn't you honey?"

I look up from my food and stare at my mother. She looks so hopeful. I sigh. "Yeah, sure sounds like fun." I say trying to muster up as much enthusiasm as I can.

I take a peek at Santana and Brittany from the corner of my eye. They don't look happy at all. I watch my mom walk away. Fantastic. Now I get to spend an entire night at a party with a bunch of people who hate me.

I stab at the remaining food on my plate as my mom comes back with the salads. We eat in silence until finally Sanatana speaks up.

"I almost forgot, Rachel, did you hear the big news?" She's looking at me with a strange expression. I'm almost afraid to ask.

"No, but I'm assuming you're going to tell me." I say.

She still has that expression on her face; it's actually kind of scary. "It's about Noah Puckerman's release." She says.

I drop my fork with a loud clang. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. That wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be in jail for at least another six months. I had the perfect plan. I would get that scholarship and leave for New York before he got back. No, no, no.

I feel my throat constricting and I'm having trouble breathing. I'm starting to have a panic attack. I'm panting and I feel like the walls might cave in any second.

"Rachel, are you alright?" Brittany asks me carefully.

No, I'm no alright, not at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Once again, thanks for all the incredible feedback on this story! I like that some of my readers have read the novel and other haven't. I like to compare reviews and see what everyone thinks of my story so far. Anyways, to my reviewer JayJackson who mentioned the sequel to the novel, _Return to Paradise_, I haven't decided whether or not I'm going to write a sequel or change the ending of the first book. Guess you'll have to wait and see! Also, this chapter is told in both Puck and Rachel's POV so keep an eye out for the perspective switch.

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Puck_

"Welcome home, dude." Mike Chang said as he pulled up in front of my house. "Good to have to back."

I nodded to him and grabbed my duffel bag. Truthfully, if it wasn't for Mike, I probably wouldn't have even left the DOC. My mom sure as hell wasn't going to pick me up. In fact, she probably didn't even want to see me at all.

I watched Mike as he drove away before turning to face my house. It was pretty much the same now as it was a year ago. The lawn was a mess and a rickety chain link fence surrounded the property.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the gate. As I reached the door I searched for the key my mom usually kept under the mat. It was still there. Turning the key, the door unlocked with a soft click. I never expected the house I'd spent the first sixteen years of my life at would feel so weird. I felt like a stranger in my own home.

I walked carefully down the hall and went towards the den. My mom was sitting on the old worn out couch. She was sipping out of a mug and watching the television intently. I accidently stepped on one of the creaky floorboards which immediately made my presence known.

She turned to face me and barely even batted an eyelash. She looked different from the last time I saw her. Gone was her usual bright and cheerful demeanor, instead it had been replaced with one of sadness and defeat. It was obvious the day the judge sent me to jail was the day my mother had completely given up on me.

"Noah." She said evenly, before returning to the show she was watching.

I crept out of the den quickly. I hadn't spoken to my mother since she last visited me in jail. That was almost three months ago. Our relationship was strained to say the least. I didn't have a clue what I'd say to her. All I knew was I wasn't ready to talk and obviously neither was she.

I made my way up the staircase to the second floor and stopped when I saw a familiar figure standing in the doorway. My sister Sarah was staring at me with wide eyes. As I paused in front of her door she threw herself into my arms. I awkwardly patted her on the back before pushing her away. She looked hurt by my rejection but I couldn't really bring myself to care. It had been a whole year since I had any sort of intimate physical contact. It would take some getting used to.

"Sorry," I mumbled when she frowned. "I just need to lie down for a while."

Her eyes followed me carefully. There was something different about her, I noticed. My twin sister had always been one of the most exciting people I've ever met. She was funny and smart and so full of life, but the Sarah that stood in front of me was a complete stranger. Her personality seemed darker and more reserved. The look of hurt on her face had morphed into one of anger as she quickly went back into her room and slammed the door.

I sighed and continued to my own room. When I stepped inside I saw that all the posters of my favorite bands had been taken down. The furniture had been rearranged as well. I walked over to the closet and shoved it open. All my t-shirts and jersey had been taken out and replaced with several dress shirts and more khaki then I knew what to do with.

Plopping myself down on the bed I stared at the ceiling. I thought a lot about what being home would feel like after I got out of jail. Right now, it was living up to my expectations. I almost wanted to go back to the DOC. Almost.

I flipped on my side and saw a picture of me and my girlfriend Quinn still taped to the wall. Well, ex-girlfriend I guess. I tried to cut all ties with Quinn after I got arrested. Quinn's parents were a bunch of stuck up super Christians who tried to mold their daughter into the next Mother Theresa. They wanted her to have nothing to do with anything that could possibly corrupt her, namely me. Unfortunately, Quinn was anything but a good girl. As McKinley High's head cheerleader, Quinn could tear down and humiliate anyone who got on her bad side. She was a grade "A" bitch that was for sure, but thinking back so was I. That's probably why we were together for so long.

I tuned on my other side to face the window. Looking through it I could see the Berrys' house across the way. My bedroom was straight across from Rachel's.

Rachel Berry.

I scoffed. I know it's kind of unfair, but it's hard not to want to blame her for everything. If it wasn't for her I wouldn't have gone through the worst year of my entire life. Rachel Berry had been on my mind this past year more times then I was willing to admit.

"Noah!" Sarah called out. "I think mom wants to talk to you." She told me.

I sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time. Well, I was going to have to face her sooner or later. I guess now was the time.

* * *

_Rachel_

I was getting the feeling that my mother wanted to go to the party more than me. Well, actually that wasn't hard seeing as though I didn't want to go to the party, at all.

I told myself not to be week. I told myself I would be firm, go straight up to Shelby and say that I had absolutely no intention of going to Finn Hudson's house. But as soon as she walked through the door, she was practically giddy with excitement. I hardly remember her ever looking so happy since the accident. I for one wasn't going to ruin it for her.

"Oh I'm just so excited for you, baby girl!" She squeaked. "It's been forever since you've been to good old fashion high school party! Aren't you just so excited?"

"Yeah mom," I nodded pathetically, "So excited."

She skipped away as I hobbled up to my room. I walked over to my closet and shoved open the doors. What was I supposed to wear for this party anyone? Whatever, I was only going for my mom. I had nobody to impress.

I finally decided on a basic v-neck with some comfortable pants that covered my scars. I grabbed a pair of slip on shoes and gathered my long dark hair into a hair tie.

I can practically feel my mother's excitement from all the way downstairs. I love her to death, but she still doesn't get it. Every time I go out in public, people stare. It's uncomfortable and intrusive, like they can see something inside me that I never wanted anyone to see. I know as soon as I go, people are going to ask questions. I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. No, I'm going to be strong today. I'm doing this for my mom.

I limp back down the stairs and towards the door. The Hudsons' don't live very far from our house so I told my mom I'd walk there. She gave me a wary look but I assured her that my leg was fine, and the house was barely a block away.

I waved goodbye and started to leave before I finally realize. The reason she's been giving me so much attention.

"You knew Noah was coming back today didn't you?" I accused her.

She blinks rapidly then looks around. "Someone may have mentioned it at dinner yesterday." She admits quietly.

I roll my eyes and turn around. I knew if I stayed too long mom and I would only start a fight.

I hobbled all the way to the Hudson's house. I took a deep breath and walked through the door. Immediately, I could feel the stares of everyone in the room. As I made my way through the crowd I could hear people calling out to me.

"Hey it's Rachel Berry, back from the dead!" A guy from the football team yells.

"I hear Noah Puckerman is back too!" A girl says right after him.

I try to ignore them. It's hard though, really, really hard. "Yeah, I heard. It's whatever." I try to play it off.

"Seriously?" Someone else asks. "Considering he almost killed you." She shrieks.

I wince and try to get away from the mob of people. I knew this was a bad idea. "Really, I'm over it." I call from over my shoulder.

"How can you be?" The nameless girl persists. "Weren't you in a wheelchair, for like, forever?" She asks.

One hundred and twenty three days to be exact, but, hey, who's counting?

I walk over to a secluded area where barely anyone is. I take a sip from the cup I grabbed. It's bitter and probably spiked with alcohol, but at this point I could really care less. I could use a bit of liquid courage today.

A few minutes later, I feel a small hand grab my arm and pull me backward. Hard. The mystery person continues to drag me towards the back of the house and onto the back porch. When we stop I finally yank my arm and away and spin around to face my attacker.

I almost drop my drink when I realize, it's Quinn Fabray. Head cheerleader, head of the celibacy club, and head bitch. I barely remember Quinn ever saying more than three words to me that weren't insults.

"Did you see him?" She asks me, eyes wide with curiosity.

I'm totally confused. "What?"

"I said did you see him?" Quinn asks and rolls her eyes. "Puck?"

I grimace at the sound of his dumb nickname. He's gone by "Puck" ever since we started high school. I for one think it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard and I've told him so. He's always been "Noah" to me. Nevertheless, I can see Quinn is still waiting for an answer.

"No." I tell her point blank. "I haven't."

She frown at me and keeps pressing. "But, you live right next to him!" She argues.

"I said I didn't see him." I tell her, agitated now.

She frowns again before someone from inside calls her name. She takes one last look at me before flipping her hair and sashaying back into the house.

I roll my eyes and then I realize I'm all alone. All alone like I've always been. I can see all my former glee club friends, pretending like I don't exist. What was I thinking? Coming to this party was a bad idea.

I quietly sneak out of the house and limp down the sidewalk. I don't know where I'm going, someplace private and quiet I hope.

* * *

_Puck_

I learn from Sarah that the reason mom wanted to see me was to tell me to get ready. Mom had planned a welcome home party for me but I knew it really wasn't for me at all. Delilah Puckerman was more worried about what other people thought of her than anything else.

She gave me a wide smile and said the first full sentence to me since I'd arrived home. "Please, don't embarrass me, Noah." She pleaded.

Throughout the night, I mainly kept my mouth shut. God forbid I'd say something that'll make my mom get pissed at me, all over again. I watched Sarah all night too. She was so different; I really didn't have a clue as to what to say to her. Keeping my mouth shut was probably the smartest idea.

A few hours later, I'd reached a breaking point. I duck out the side gate and start walking down the sidewalk. It's dark but most of the streetlights are still on. I head for Lima Park, where I know I can finally get a few minutes of peace and quiet.

When I reach the park, I see the old oak tree my friends and I used to climb as kids. I remember Sam once daring me to climb all the way to the top and jump into a pile of leaves we'd collected. I broke my leg in three places that day. I didn't care though. I did the dare and the others looked at me like I was a god.

I circled the tree staring at the branches. A sharp intake of breath startles me. I look down to see the last person I'd ever expect to see leaning against the tree trunk.

Rachel Berry.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for the great response on the last chapter. This chapter is where the drama will start so get ready! Also for those who read the book know that the character of Mrs. Reynolds is a very important to the two main characters relationship. She is the mother of the owner of the diner where Rachel's mom works. Since I've made Sue Sylvester the diner owner, her mother Doris Sylvester will be Mrs. Reynolds. Mrs. Sylvester will be very OC so be prepared.

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Rachel_

I felt movement next to me and turned sharply, bracing myself for whoever was there with me. I never expected to see the guy I'd been having nightmares about for the past year standing there.

I gasped and took in the sight of none other than Noah Puckerman. He'd gotten taller since the last time I'd seen him, larger too. His shoulders were broader and he looked as though he'd been working out quite a bit. His biceps strained against his slightly too small t-shirt and his dark hazel eyes bore into me with an unreadable expression. He crouched down slightly and I could see he'd shaved his head into a crude-looking Mohawk.

I couldn't breathe. I must have told myself a hundred times that when I finally came face to face with him, I'd have to stay calm. Unfortunately, right at the moment, I was far from calm. My emotions were running rampant through me. Everything hit me at once, anger, anxiety, even fear.

I scrambled from under the tree and tried to stand up. A hot searing pain shot up me as I bore the brunt of my weight on my bad leg. I cried out in pain. I could see him frowning from the corner of my eye. He reached out and touched my elbow to steady me.

Oh. My. God. Memories of being stuck in a hospital bed, unable to move, crash through my mind and I straighten.

I jerked my arm back. "Don't touch me!" I shrieked hysterically. "Get away from me!"

He stepped back and held his hands up. "You don't have to be afraid of me." He said evenly.

I scoffed. I had every right to be afraid of him. He was the guy who put me in a wheelchair for four months. He was the guy made me go through multiple surgeries and horribly painful physical therapy. And worst of all, he was the guy who crushed any hopes I had of performing on Broadway someday.

Noah Puckerman was dead to me.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Come on, Berry, we used to be friends." He reminded me.

I winced. "That was a long time ago!" I spit. "Before you hit me!" I screech. "Besides you said we _weren't _friends before!" I say my voice full of bitterness.

He looks angry. "It was an accident. I paid my debt to society." He says with a hint of irritation to his voice.

It's a totally surreal moment, and one I don't want to last longer than it has to. While my insides shake from nervousness, I face him and try to speak in the most convincing voice I can muster, "You may have paid your debt to society, but what about your debt to me?"

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I can't believe I've said them. I turn around and limp back home without a backward glance. I close my eyes, put my hands over my ears, and hum.

Even with my eyes and ears closed, the image of Noah is burned into my brain. His dark hazel eyes stare at me and I can still here his dark voice. The night of the accident, the pain I've suffered, my whole life changing, it all races back. It haunts me to no end

I start to hum.

* * *

_Puck_

My life was going to shit. First mom gives me the cold shoulder, then Sarah acts as if she's a completely different person, and now Rachel. When I left my house, the last thing I needed was to come face to face with her. She looked at me as though I'd run over he again given half the chance.

I leaned against the tree trunk of the old oak. I thought back to the past year. Crap food, limited free time, and guys that would break you in half if you so much as looked at them weird. Rachel wasn't the only one who had suffered.

It was an accident, for heaven's sake.

The kid in jail who stabbed the girl who refused to go to the dance with him, that was no accident. Jesse dealing drugs for money, that was no accident. I'm not saying driving drunk isn't a crime–it is. And when I pled guilty to the charges, I was ready to take whatever punishment the judge ordered–without regrets.

I was accused of the crime, I did the time. It's over. There was just one glitch:

Rachel Berry doesn't want to forgive me.

She said I haven't paid my debt to her. Is there any end to this punishment I've put upon myself?

I look down and shake my head. I won't let Rachel, or my family, or anyone make me unfocused. If being stuck in the DOC didn't screw me up, then I'm definitely not going to let anyone in Lima do it. My sister is going to have to figure out why she thinks being a fucking weirdo is better than going back to the way things were before I left. And my mom is going to, somehow, get real and stop acting like she's in some stupid drama movie. She needs to get the hell over herself and start acting like an adult. And Rachel, Rachel's going to have to realize that the accident was just that, an accident.

Maybe I wanted to prove to her that I'm not the evil monster she obviously thinks I am. All I know is, no matter what happens, I'm not leaving Lima. She might as well get used to me.

They all better get used to me.

* * *

_Rachel_

As soon as I get home, it takes every ounce of will power to keep myself from crying. I take a deep breath and muster up the biggest smile I can, before pushing open the front door. My mother immediately pounces.

"Hi, sweetie!" She shrieks in delight. "Did you have a good time?"

I try and fake enthusiasm, "It was awesome, mom. I had a great time."

Her eyes are shinning and she looks like the happiest person in the room. I bite my lip hard. I can't cry, not now, not in front her.

"I'm so glad!" She exclaims. "I'm so proud of you."

My resolve to keep the tears at bay is crumbling. "Thanks, mom, I'm just going to go to bed now."

"Oh, ok." She looks a bit confused. "Sleep tight."

I smile at her before making my way up the stairs. I stop midway. There's still one thing I have to ask her. "Oh, mom, before I forget. Did you happen to get that packet from the Student Exchange Program?" I ask hopefully.

She frowns. "No, I don't think so." She sees the obvious displeasure on my face. "But I'm sure it will come soon!" She tries to placate me.

I nod once before limping the rest of the way upstairs. "Night, mom."

I see her frown from the corner of my eye and I'm wracked with guilt. I know she's only trying to help, but everything's been blowing up in my face recently. First my mom gets me invited to that stupid party then I come face to face with Noah Puckerman for the first time in a year.

It's just too much. I throw myself on my bed, turn on some music, and try to drown out the memories of the past year.

Unfortunately, it's not working.

* * *

_Puck_

Going back to school wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Before I went to jail, I basically ruled the halls of William McKinley High School with an iron fist. Guys were afraid of me and girls wanted me. I had a smoking hot girlfriend and a group of friends who worshiped the ground I walked on. I even made Glee club look cool, sort of. It's not like popular kids were lining up to join but I was still on top. Fuck, I could wear a dress to school and people would still think I was cool.

My first day back, they forced me to take all my final exams from last year. If I passed them all, I'd be allowed to start my junior year with my friends. The exams weren't all that difficult. Looking back I hardly ever went to class but I wasn't a dumb kid. Plus, I once fucked the valedictorian a couple times in exchange for private tutoring. Personally, I thought it was a win-win.

After I'd received word that I'd passed my classes, I decided it was time for me to rebuild my rep again. I started hanging out with the football guys again and tried to pretend like all of last year had never happened. It worked for a while, and things started to get back to normal.

It was during lunch time that it happened. Mike was trying, without much luck I might add, to convince us that our glee numbers needed more pop-and-lock.

"Dude, I'm telling you," He waved his arms around enthusiastically. "It would look so cool!"

Matt shook his head sadly and I threw my empty chip bag at his head, "We'd look like a bunch of fucking robots." I told him bluntly.

This only seemed to set him off more. "What's wrong with robots? Robots are cool, man!"

Matt and I exchanged a glance, "Whatever, dude, anyways it doesn't matter. Finn over here would never be able to figure how to do it anyway."

"Shut up, man." I heard my best friend mumble next to me.

I rolled my eyes and looked around the rest of the cafeteria. I froze when I saw none other than my ex-girlfriend Quinn and her drones Santana and Brittany following behind.

"We'll hello there ladies." Mike winked at them as they made their way towards our table. Brittany giggled, Santana rolled her eyes but cracked a smile, and Quinn, Quinn wasn't paying attention at all, she was too busy staring at me.

"Hey, Puck," She said flirtatiously, taking a step towards me and leaning against the table. "Long time no see."

I gave her a slight nod and stared straight back. She didn't seem much different than the last time I saw her, her blonde hair was pulled back off her face and her cheerios skirt swayed back and forth with every step she took. We held each other's gaze for what seemed like forever.

"So ladies," Mike broke us out of out trance. "Care to show us what's in store for this year's football games?"

Quinn exchanged glances with Santana and Brittany. "Sure Chang," Santana smirked. "Just don't ask us if we can add pop-and-lock."

Mike's face fell for a second before it brightened again when the girls started their cheer. Obviously, the guys were more interested in the cheerios than the actual cheer especially since the uniforms left little to the imagination.

When they finished the guys clapped and cheered, especially Karofsky who gave a Quinn a once over followed by a sly little wink.

"Knock it off, Karofsky." I yell at him from across the table.

He holds up his hands and smiles. "What? I was just admiring the cheer. "

"Please,"Quinn said as she sat down next to Finn and gave Karofsky a disgusted look. "You were admiring something, all right. Our chests."

"That, too," Karofsky admitted. "I'm a teenage guy with raging hormones, what do you expect? I bet Puck admired them, too, because he hasn't seen any in almost a year. Isn't that right?"

Frankly, I should have seen it coming. I really should have known it was just a matter of time before my stint in jail got thrown in my face. I looked around the table and saw that everyone was staring at me now, including Quinn. I get up from my seat and walk out of the cafeteria. I don't want to deal with this crap right now.

"I was just kidding, Puck. It was just a joke! Come back here!" I hear Karofsky call out, but I keep walking

Back at the DOC we had rage-intervention classes once a week. Since most of us got our sorry asses put in jail because of violence, they stressed that we needed to release anger in other, non-violent ways. Since punching Karofsky in his fat-ass mouth isn't an option, I head to the school workout room.

By the time lunch period is over my knuckles are busted and there's blood splattered all over the punching bag I'd been hitting.

"You done, now?" A voice asks me from behind.

I turn around so fast, it feels like whiplash. I narrow my eyes as I look into the eyes of none other than Shannon Beiste.

Coach Beiste has been my transition coach ever since I was thrown into the system. As a transition coach, her job is to help me get back into my old life and stay out of trouble. Coincidentally, she's also McKinley High's football coach. Don't be mistaken though. Even though she's a woman she could probably take down the biggest linebacker in seconds, no sweat.

On top of that Coach is the prime example of a bad kid who got her life back on track. She's been through the system herself but thankfully she got her life straightened out and is now out there helping other delinquents, like me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, wiping my knuckles on a towel. "We don't have practice today."

"Your mother called me." She replied. I raised an eyebrow at the fact that my mother actually gave a crap about me, but she continued. "She wanted me to make sure you didn't get your ass back to jail less than a week after you got out."

"Oh right," I said sarcastically, "Because, I've just been itching to go back to that hellhole."

"Can it Puckerman." She snaps. "Come on were going for a walk."

I roll my eyes, "Sorry, but I got class." I wasn't actually planning on going back but maybe I could chill in the nurse's office for the rest of the day. Anything was better than having to talk about my feelings with my transition coach.

She smirked. "Don't worry about it. Figgins was more than willing to let me take you out of class for a few hours. Let's get going."

About 15 minutes later, we'd reached Lima Park. We walked around in silence for a few minutes before Coach started to speak.

"So tell me about everything that's happened since you've come home." She says.

I keep my mouth shut for a few seconds before my mouth betrays me and starts to talk for me. "Well let's see. My mother hates me. She's more worried about what other people think of her than her own son. And then there's my sister who's turned into a fucking weirdo." I try to stop, but it's like my mouth has a mind of its own. "All my friends want to hear about every single fucking detail about the DOC, but they don't know, they have no idea how horrible it is."

Coach Beiste took a long pause. "No one said it was going to be easy."

"Yeah?" I snapped at her. "No one said it was going to be this fucking hard."

We stopped walking and Coach turned to face me. "Does it make you feel like a big guy to cuss in every sentence that comes out of your mouth?"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, lay off."

"It's my job to stay on you, Puck. But I can't help if you won't share with me." She prods.

I scoff and look up towards the sky. "I don't need your help. My mom and sister, they need more help than me. Why don't you treat them like your guinea pig?"

"You've been away for almost a year, Puck. Give them a break. You act as though they should be apologizing to you instead of the other way around. What did they do wrong, huh? Maybe you should blame yourself once in a while, Puck. The experience might be eye opening."

"Yeah, well the truth might be eye opening." I mumble.

"What was that?" She asks.

"Nothing," I grumble. "Forget it."

We continue walking and I stare straight ahead. I can feel her eyes on me, burning with all kinds of questions. I can't afford to look at her right now or I might go crazy, like legit fucking snap.

"Anyway," She stops looking and me and flips through some papers in the folder she's carrying. "Based on the survey you filled out to help us match you up with the right community service, you'll be reporting to Burt Hummel's Hardware Store bright and early next week."

I groaned. Burt's son Kurt and I went to school together. We didn't have the best relationship. Actually, it was pretty much non-existent, seeing as though I used to throw Kurt in the school dumpster every morning.

"You'll be going door to door," She continued. "They'll give you an address along with supplies and you'll do fix whatever needs to be fixed, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I mocked saluted her.

She rolled her eyes but kept talking, "One last question." She said. "Have you had any physical contact?"

I gave her a confused expression. "What? You mean, like, as in sex?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. You tell me."

I paused for a few seconds before answering her. "Um, my sister hugged me and a few of my mom's friends gave me a pat on the back."

"Did you initiate it?" She pressed.

"No. You're creeping me out, dude."

"Puck, I'm only trying to help you. Some people have attachment problems when they've been away for a long time. It's in your best interest to–"

"I touched a girl." I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"Go on." She prodded.

My thoughts went back to the day when I saw Rachel Berry for the first time. I remember the expression on her face when she tried to stand up on her leg followed by the look of complete terror.

"A girl needed help getting up so I reached out to steady her." I said carefully.

"Did she thank you or even say anything to you?"

I scoffed and let out a bitter laugh. "She freaked out and ripped her arm out of my grasp."

"Were you being rough?" She continued.

"Trust me, I wasn't." I said harshly.

"Who was she, Puck?"

She was staring intently at me, waiting for a response. I finally opened my mouth, "She was the girl who I went to jail for maiming."

* * *

_Rachel_

I'd gone to the library after school, researching and reading all about Broadway and New York. When I came home I crossed my fingers hoping the packet would be in the mail today.

I opened the mailbox to see that there wasn't a packet but a letter from the program instead. I was too excited to think about anything except for the fact that I finally received my ticket out of this two-bit town, not to mention my escape from Noah Puckerman. I ripped open the letter and read.

_To: Miss Rachel Berry_

_From: The National Performing Arts Program (NPAP)_

_Dear Miss Berry,_

_It has come to the attention of the NPAP committee that the scholarship you applied for was a dance scholarship. Since your records indicate that you have not been active on your high school's dance team for the past twelve months, I'm sorry to inform you that your scholarship has been revoked. We are under legal limitations to distribute the scholarship to students who are currently active in their high schools. You are still welcome to join the NPAP if you can arrange your own transportation and pay tuition costs. The cost of tuition for one semester in New York is $4,625. Please remit payment within the end of the month. If you have any questions or concerns feel free to contact me._

_Sincerely,_

_April Rhodes_

_President of the NPAP_

My heart sunk as I read the letter over and over. I bite my lip in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, but it's no use. I swipe angerly at the tears as they run down my cheeks.

When my mom gets home I show her the letter. "It's ok," She sounds panicked. "I'll just work double shifts at the diner, and then on Thanksgiving, and if I throw in my Christmas bonus–"

"Mom, please." I cut her off, We both know we don't have that kind of money. "Just stop."

We both stare sadly at the letter on the kitchen table for a few minutes before the phone rings. It's my mom's boss Sue Sylvester telling her she forgot her paycheck at work."

"I'll be right over." She tells her impatient boss. "Rachel, honey, come with me."

I don't want to, but if I say no to my mom she'll only feel worse. We get to the diner and find out it's packed with a bunch of middle-aged men waiting to be seated. Apparently there was some kind of bowling tournament and their bus stopped by the diner for food.

"Finally," And agitated voice, belonging to non-other than Sue Sylvester, calls out. "I need you to help with the shift tonight. Yolanda went home sick a while ago and I don't know how much longer I can take it. Some of these guys smell worse than a homeless guy who's been sitting in three days worth of garbage."

My mom exchanges a glace with me and motions towards her slightly insane boss. "Oh shoot, Rachel, do you mind?"

I shake my head. "Go ahead; I'll just wait till you're done." I say as I slip into a booth.

I can hear Sue screaming at a few rowdy customers, "You think your life is hard. I'm living with hepatitis, that's hard!"

I smirk and shake my head. I watch Sue as she walks over towards the door to embrace and older woman, who walked through the door. The woman catches me staring and waves. I look away quickly and pretend like I wasn't staring, but the woman walks up to my booth.

Sue follows behind her and looks from me to the woman, "Broadway, this is my mother, Doris, Doris Sylvester." She introduces me with the affectionate little nickname she uses often. "Mom, this is Broadway, aka Rachel. She's Shelby's daughter."

Doris shakes my hand and smiles brightly, "Nice to meet you, Rachel. Mind if I sit here?"

I shake my head and gesture for her to sit. Sue stands over the booth with a confused expression. "Mom, where's Mary?" She asks.

"Oh I fired her yesterday." Doris says nonchalantly. "She was such a you-know-what."

"Mom," Sue reprimands. "You can't just fire every single person I hire to help you out."

"Oh don't worry about me, Susie, I don't need any help." She says.

"You have a heart condition, mom." Sue replies.

She waves her hand dismissively, "Oh shush, Sue, and go get your poor mother something to eat."

Sue walks away to grab something from the kitchen and Doris gives me a quick once over. "I had no idea Shelby had a daughter. How old are you, Rachel?"

"Sixteen." I tell her.

"She just started her junior year of high school." Sue says as she returns with a plate of food. "And she's going to New York next semester for a performing arts program."

I wince when Ms. Sylvester mentions the New York program. Doris seams to notice it and waits for Sue to leave again. "So Rachel, why do you want to leave Ohio so badly?"

I poke at the food on my plate. "I just do." I answer stubbornly.

"Well, then, if you don't want to talk about it just say so." She says. "I'm sure you have your reasons."

"They revoked my scholarship." I blurt out before I can stop myself.

I expect to see a look of pity on her face but it's not there. Instead she looks almost angry. "Well, why would they go and do a thing like that?"

"I applied for a dance scholarship but I'm not on the team anymore so they revoked my scholarship." I tell her.

She nods her head, lets out a long breath, then leans back in the booth. "I see. Well, who knows, maybe one day your luck will change."

I can only pray that she's right.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: So I'm back. I know I know it feels like I've been gone forever, but no worries. I back and ready to get to the good stuff in this story. Once again thank you for all the alerts and favorites. Try and leave a review if you can. Reviews inspire me to write faster, so if you want to see what happens, take a minute to write a sentence or two about how you liked or didn't like the story.

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Rachel_

Ever since the accident, I've had nightmares, specifically ones that recount the events from that night. It's always the same one but the other night, a few days after Puck had come home, the nightmare was different. This time instead of Puck driving the car it was his girlfriend, Quinn.

I'm guessing it was because I saw Quinn talking to him in the cafeteria the other day. He didn't see me because I sit right by the doors so I can leave as soon as I'm finished. The cafeteria is a strange place. The popular kids, the jocks and the cheerleaders, can be spotted right away. The regular people sit in their own cliques, totally separate from the popular lunch table.

Things were so different before the accident.

I used to be a popular. Well, sort of. I was captain of our school's dance team. We're sort of like the football team's cheerleaders, except we perform at basketball games. When it all comes down to it, we're not as popular as the cheerleaders, but we're definitely closer to the top of the food chain. Now everything's different. I'm a loner who doesn't even mingle with the regulars, not even the lowest ones.

Glee club was the only other club I had left. Now, not only was I forced to deal with the whispering and the stares of my fellow classmates, but I was treated to the early morning slushie to the face every day. Not even the other losers in glee club want to talk to me now.

Now I've become a loner. Loners sit by themselves, scattered throughout the lunchroom. They eat alone, then make their hasty exits. I never knew where the loners went to; they just disappeared during lunch hour. But now that I am a loner I know that secret place. The school library. It's this mysterious place you can go to and not be seen.

Puck, on the other hand, isn't afraid of attention. He walked right into the cafeteria yesterday, his head held high, as if he'd never left. Then he went straight up to Quinn Fabray and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle. I swear everyone in the room was silent as they watched them reunite. Does he know Finn and Quinn are a couple now? The way he stared at her butt in her stupid little cheerleading skirt when she walked away makes me think he's oblivious to what's been going on since he was in jail. Some things haven't changed.

I pull back my window curtains and stare out at Puck's window. It's a little past three in the morning. He's probably drunk and passed out, sleeping like a baby.

But he's not. His light is on and I can see his silhouette pacing in his room.

I let the curtains fall back to cover the window, turn the light off, and hurry back to bed. I can't fall into old habits, not now after everything that's happened.

The reality is I've had a crush on Noah since first grade.

I used to be best friends with him and his sister. When our moms were working late shifts, theirs at the hospital and mine at the diner, the three of us spent a lot of time together at the JCC. The JCC, aka the Jewish Community Center, was basically a day care center for the children of our small Jewish community in Lima.

He used to tease Sarah and me when we played with our dolls. But whenever we needed a boy in our performances he was more than happy to help us out. Sarah and I had met through dance classes and when we practiced, we could count on Puck to be our only audience member.

I think I finally realized I was totally head over heels in love with him was when I was in 7th or 8th grade. Jacob Ben-Israel had been a constant thorn in my side ever since his family moved to Lima a few years prior. I cried on Sarah's shoulder one day when I caught him under the bleacher with a camera, trying to look up my skirt. She must have told her brother about it because the next day, Puck had Jacob pinned up against the locker with an absolutely murderous look in his eyes.

"Listen up Jewfro," He growled at him. "If you ever come within a foot of Rachel again, I'll fucking shove you so far into that locker you won't be able to find your way out."

That threat, followed by a few punches for good measure got him suspended for a week. Without even realizing it, he became my hero.

After that I used to watch him a lot. Not in a creepy stalker kind of way, more like the occasional glance out my bedroom window. After we graduated 8th grade, he started his own pool cleaning service. I used to watch him sometimes when he cleaned pools in the neighbors' yards. His muscles bunched against his thin t-shirt and when it got really hot, he'd strip down to nothing but his swim trunks. The sweat glistened off incredible abs as well as his biceps. I had to check myself a few times to make sure I wasn't drooling.

Sometimes he'd see me and wave. Sometimes I'd wave back. I knew Puck never saw me as more than a friend but I hoped one day he'd see me as more than just his twin sister's annoying friend.

Over the years he had girlfriends, well more like hook-ups. He could never really stay in a monogamous relationship. None of them were serious.

That was until Quinn.

They got together during sophomore year. He was the cool hunky football player and she was the gorgeous perfect blonde cheerleader. They hung out at his house almost every day after school. Every time I'd glance out the window, I'd see them in some kind of intimate embrace and my heart would break. I knew his mom was far from happy when she found out her son was dating a 'Gentile' instead of a nice Jewish girl.

Speaking of religion, the Fabrays were known for their church-going Jesus-obsessed reputation. Quinn was president of the celibacy club, for crying out loud. When word got out that Noah "Puck" Puckerman, self proclaimed bad-ass as well as sex-shark, was dating the queen of the celibacy club, people didn't believe it. But it was true.

That was also about the time when my dad left us. I used to cry myself to sleep desperately waiting for my dad and Puck to love me as much as I loved them.

What could I possibly do to make them love me? I was good at singing and dance, but I knew joining glee club would never impress Puck and God forbid I tried out for the cheerleading squad and have Quinn rip me apart. So I went to Principal Figgins and asked for permission to start the school's dance team. I promised him that we could earn the school just as much money at basketball games as the cheerleaders did at football games. He promised that if I could form a squad and prove to the school board that we were worth it, he'd provide funding for us.

The rest was history. Thanks to a little bit of scouting and a lot of hard work, the McKinley High School Dance Team became a reality. As the founder I was automatically made captain. We performed at all the basketball games (just so happens Puck was on the team) and even won some state competitions.

Granted the cheerleading coach wasn't very happy with me. That was a rough time for my mom. Sue Sylvester, the owner of the diner where my mom works, just so happens to work part time as the coach of the cheerleading squad, aka the cheerios. Eventually she got over it though.

Surely once Puck saw me as the sophomore captain of the dance team, he'd notice me. I even sent my dad articles from the newspaper whenever the team won a competition and dates of future games.

My dad never saw me perform that year.

That was also the year I heard Quinn had given her virginity to Puck.

Celibacy queen my ass.

He never said anything to me or Sarah about it. It was one of those don't ask, don't tell situations. I spent the rest of the year trying to pretend like it never happened.

I keep going over the night of the accident in my head. The conversation I had with Puck before the accident and the stories I heard about afterward.

He was obviously drunk; the policemen who arrested him gave him an alcohol test immediately after he admitted to hitting me with his car. But was he so drunk he didn't know what he was doing?

So what if he hated what I told him that night, it was the truth. His girlfriend was cheating on him. I was determined not to let him get away from me.

_"You're lying," he'd said that night, his voice filled with so much anger._

_"I swear, Noah, I'm not lying." I pleaded with him. "I saw her with another guy." I held my tongue to make sure I don't let the next piece of information slip. The fact that the guy Quinn was with was his best friend._

_His arms shot out and grabbed my shoulders. His nails dug in so hard, I winced from the pain that shot though my arm. I'd seen a lot of guys who'd been beat up by Puck before, but he never once laid a hand on me like that._

_"I love you," I told him and the pressure on my arms loosened. "I've always loved you." I confessed. It was now or never. "Can't you see it? Your girlfriend is playing you!" I shouted louder than I'd ever heard myself yell before._

_He narrowed his eyes and removed his hands from me completely. "You don't fucking get it, freak. Stop starting dumbass rumors before you get hurt."_

His warning, the menacing tone of his voice, everything about our conversation gives me the chills. People have told me over and over how it was an accident, but sometimes in the dark recesses of my mind, the doubts creep up.

Did he really hit me with his truck on purpose? All because I thought he should know the truth about his girlfriend.

It doesn't matter now. I can't change anything that's happened. I finally fall asleep and go deeper into my own personal world of nightmares. I have to get out of Lima, whatever it takes.

* * *

The next day there's a message on the answering machine. It's Mrs. Sylvester, asking me to give her a call as soon as possible.

I call her back. She wants to interview me for an after school job, as her companion.

"Are you serious?" I ask her incredulously.

"I want to strike a deal with you, Rachel, to go to New York." She tells me. "Come to my house and we can work out the details."

As soon as the phone disconnects I'm out the door as fast as my gimpy leg can carry me. Being a companion can't possibly be that hard. What would she want me to do?

When I get to her house she greats me warmly at the door. "Come in Rachel." She smiles at me

When I sit down in her living room, I tell myself I need to make a good impression. I'm ready to pretend as though everything from last year never happened. I'm starting fresh.

Doris Sylvester has bright, alert, hazel eyes that defy her old age, and an attitude that rivals Quinn Fabray and her cheerios. "What do you think of my deal Rachel? You work for me and you'll be able to take that trip to New York."

"Well Mrs. Sylvester, besides needing the money for my semester in New York I believe one can learn a lot from people with life experience."

I can see her pressing her lips together hard to keep from smiling but unfortunately she ends up bursting in laughter. "Oh please, don't you mean old people?"

I sputter in an attempt to formulate a response but she cuts me off.

"Forget about it. Here's your first lesson in life experience. Don't pussyfoot around. Just say what you want to say and get it out in the open." She crosses her legs in her seat. "Well I do have a few questions for you. Can you cook? Play gin? Do you talk too much?"

She fires off her questions and I think for a minute. "Yes. Yes. And…" I pause before answering the last question. Before the accident, I did nothing but talk. Partly because I just liked hearing my voice but also sometimes because I thought if I talked more, people would accept me for who I was. "No." I answered. It was true now at least. I really didn't have anyone to talk too.

"Good." She answered me. "I need to eat and whooping you tush in gin might make me feel a little bit better. Also I'm not one for senseless chatter." She smiled at me briefly before continuing her speech. "I'll expect you here from three thirty to seven o'clock on weekdays, a few hours on weekends. I can also give you a few breaks for homework and whatever else you teenagers do."

"Does this mean I'm hired?" I ask her.

"It would seem so. I'll pay you fifteen hundred dollars a month. That should be enough to pay for your semester in New York."

I pick my jaw off the ground in time to sputter out a few sentences. "But that's so much. You could hire someone else for so much less money."

"I could but you want to go to New York and I want to hire you." She says with a hint of finality.

She uses her cane to stand up from the sofa, which reminds me. "Wait, I have a limp." I say.

She raises her eyebrow and takes a few steps forward. "So do I. As long as you don't complain about yours I won't complain about mine." She starts to hobble off in the opposite direction. "Oh and one more thing Rachel, call me Doris. I'll see you Monday."

And that believe it or not, is the end of my interview.

* * *

The next day I'm on my way to Mrs. Sylvester's house for my first day as her companion. I reach her house and ring the doorbell. She doesn't answer. I keep ringing, hoping nothing bad has happened to her. Just my luck she decided to fire me before I even started the job.

I decide to make my way toward the back of the house. When I unlock the gate and make my way into the back yard, I see her. She's lying on a lounge chair with a glass of pink lemonade in her hand. She's slumped over but I can see her chest rising and falling with each breath. Thank goodness she's just sleeping.

Just as I'm about to take the glass out of her hand her shrill voice causes me to jump back and gasp. "What do you think you're doing?" She asks me.

My tongue twists in my mouth. "I thought– You looked– I didn't–"

"Come on now spit it out!"

"I thought you were napping!" I finally get out.

"Does it look like I'm napping?" She says with a shrill. I open my mouth to answer but she doesn't let me. "Never mind, let's not dillydally; there's a lot of work to be done."

She sits up and points to something across the yard. "See those bags over there?" I look over to about ten paper bags lined up in the grass. They're all labeled with strange names: Apricot Whirl, Chromacolor, Decoy, Drift, Yellow Trumpet, Lemon Drops, Rosy Cloud.

"What are they for?" I ask.

"We're going to plant them." I give her a confused look. "They're different types of daffodils. Oh Rachel don't look so scared, they're just flowers."

She stands from the chair and looks at me. "Alright first off you'll need a plan, a shovel, and my muumuu. Go grab the shovel from the garage."

I turn around to ask her something but she's already gone. A few minutes later I have the shovel and I walk over to the soil. I poke the dirt a few times to loosen it. I hear footsteps and I turn around to see Mrs. Sylvester carrying a large floral print housedress.

"What on earth is that?" I ask her.

"It's my muumuu." She says. "You wear it so you don't get dirt on your clothes. Now, hurry up and put it on."

I sigh and pull the enormous dress over my head. It looks like a tent on me, an ugly pink and green floral printed tent.

"Perfect." She smiles. "Now let's get to work."

Forty-five minutes later I'm sweating and I feel like Mrs. Sylvester is just getting started. I glance up and see a pile of lumber in the far corner of the yard. "What's over there?"

"The gazebo that never happened," She answers me.

I smile imagining how amazing a gazebo would look in Mrs. Sylvester's pristine yard. "You should get someone to build it." I tell her.

She shakes her head sadly. "Let's take a break," she says. "No more talk about gazebos that will never be."

She starts to walk in the direction of the house and I struggle to get up and follow her.

"What are you doing?" She asks me with a confused expression.

"Getting up." I say.

"Usually people bend their legs when they do that."

"I can't bend my leg."

"Who says?" She asks bluntly. I give her an incredulous stare. "You bend your leg when you walk, what's the difference?" She shrugs and turns back toward the house.

I'm itching to say something to her but I keep my mouth shut Mrs. Sylvester is the first person in over a year that treats me as though nothing is wrong with me. It's refreshing and frustrating at the same time.

* * *

_Puck_

I'm playing my Xbox the day of the Lima Fall Festival. My mom tried to get me to go, but its honestly the last place I really wanted to be.

My mom peaks her head into my room. "Noah, I'd really appreciate it if you just tried to make an appearance today. It will be a good opportunity to show all the people how much of a clean-cut person you are now."

I sigh. I can tell she won't let this go. "Fine, I'll meet you down there later." I tell her.

"Thanks, Noah. I appreciate it," She says, as if she's talking to a colleague.

I roll my eyes. As soon as she's gone, I stroll outside to make myself some chicken on the grill. I'm out on the patio when I hear a familiar voice.

"I thought I might find you here." I turn to my ex-girlfriend. Quinn looks great in a tight pink sundress.

"I thought you were going to the fair?" I ask her.

"I went but you weren't there." She says in a seductive whisper, taking a step closer to me.

"Did you want me to be?" I ask her.

"No way," She whispers. "Now I can have you all to myself." She laughs softly and takes a few steps back. "You know," She calls from over her shoulder, "Everyone wants to get a glimpse of the mysterious and dangerous Noah Puckerman."

I tilt my head to the side. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiles.

I take a step closer to her. "Hey Q?" I ask carefully. "You ever thing about that night?"

"Only all the time," She answers honestly. She sighs and looks back at me. "I don't know Puck, I didn't expect you to go to jail. I just…it freaked me out."

"Freaked me out too." I tell her. "But I'm here now." She smiles at me again. There's one more thing I have to ask her. "Have you been with anyone else?"

"I…" She starts but then shuts her mouth and tries again. "Not anyone that matters."

Her words make me feel unsettled, and fuck no, it's not jealousy. The Puckster doesn't do jealousy. "Come here." I tell her gruffly.

She shuffles over and takes a seat on my lap. Her arms wrap around my neck and I twirl a piece of her blonde hair between my fingers. It's different than I remember, not as soft, more like straw. "You changed your hair?" I ask her.

"It's lighter." She says. "Do you like it?"

I don't, actually, at all. "I'll just need some time to get used to it."

She nods and leans in. I know she expects me to kiss her. I've kissed Quinn more times than I can count, so why am I hesitating? What the fuck is my problem?

"Speaking of hair," She starts, "You should grow yours out again. "So I can grab on to it." She pauses running her hands up and down the strip of hair then across my whole head. "All of it."

"Maybe," I say seconds before her lips touch mine. The scent of her cherry flavored lip-gloss is over powering.

In a bad way.

All I can think is how much a hate cherries. Cherry slushies, cherry pie, even artificially flavored cherry stuff makes my stomach churn. I break away quickly, maybe I little too quickly for Quinn. My eyes automatically go to Rachel Berry's room. I'm hoping she doesn't see me lip-locked with Quinn.

Don't ask me why I care.

"Let's go inside." I say quickly.

As soon as we get inside, she's all over me. We haven't been together for a year and she acting like we've never been apart at all. I should be over the moon right now. I'm back home, back on the football team, and I got my girl again. Instead all I can think about is how her hair is fake, her lips taste different, and her kisses are frantic instead of sexy. Despite what people might think the Puckzilla doesn't do desperate.

She stops her assault for a second to look at me. "Hey Puck," She says, "It's great that your back but…"

"But what?"

"Can we keep this thing between us a secret? The kids at school are expecting a big show between you and me, and I don't want it to get weird. Plus my dad's up for election soon and he forbid me to have any contact with you. I just think it's best if we keep this thing between us."

I don't really know what to say to her. "That's cool." I say.

She gives me a huge smile before glancing at the clock on the wall. "Oh shoot, I have to go." She pushes away from me. "See you later?"

I don't have time to give her an answer because she's already out the door. Shaking my head, I head back inside. I spot the picture of Quinn and I when I get to my room. Removing it from my headboard, I stare at it.

It's hard keeping everything the same when the same things look and feel so different.

* * *

_Rachel_

Once mom and I get to the festival, we see Ms. and Mrs. Sylvester right away.

"Sue!" My mom calls out, "Look honey its Sue and Doris Sylvester!" She says cheerfully as we make our way over to the mother daughter pair.

We strike up a conversation and my mom turns to Doris. "Mrs. Sylvester, it was so generous of you to give my daughter a job," Mom says. "We're very grateful, isn't that right Rachel?" She elbows me, hard.

"I'm the grateful one," Mrs. Sylvester says. "We've had a productive first week. Haven't we, Rachel?"

My fingernails still have dirt under them that I haven't been able to scrape out.

"We sure have." I answer dryly.

My mom gives me a strange look but continues on with the conversation. "Well, I'm absolutely starving!" She exclaims. "Sue, how about us girls go check out what they got to eat here?"

Sue immediately brightens. "That's a great idea." She says. "I think I saw Will Schuester over there earlier. I've a got a ton of bad hair jokes I've been dying to test out on him." She turns to me. "Think you can keep an eye on my mom for a little bit?"

I nod awkwardly as the pair strolls away. "My daughter thinks I'm a child." Mrs. Sylvester scoffs. I sigh and we make our way to a picnic table.

I'm not sure how much time later but with one quick glance to the dance floor, I see my mom dancing around like a teenager.

Oh. My. God.

Not only is practically every kid from school watching her but she's dancing with none other than my Spanish teach and Glee club coach Will Schuester.

"What do you keep staring at?" Mrs. Sylvester asks as I help her pile food onto her plate.

"Nothing."

"That nothing's getting a lot of attention."

I make an unattractive noise and move down the line. But when I get to Mrs. Puckerman's famous Spaghetti Spectacular, I freeze and wonder if Sarah and Puck are here.

Mrs. Sylvester is babbling about something and I'm desperately trying to focus on her and not on the dance floor.

It's like a car wreck. You know what you're going to see is bad, but you can't help it. I wonder if that's how people felt when they saw me lying on the ground after the accident.

I check out the dance floor and, thankfully, my mom is nowhere to be found. But I do see Quinn Fabray. She's slow dancing with Finn Hudson as if he were the love of her life.

My dream is to find a guy who'll dance with me like that. Well seeing as though I wouldn't actually be able to dance I want someone that would love me despite my flaws and won't turn away when a perfect girl walks by. Maybe a boy like that doesn't even exist.

Mom makes her way back to where we are, followed closely by Mrs. Schuester and Sue. My teacher and my mom are staring at each other and I have to turn my head away to keep from puking. I glance over and see Quinn and Finn enter the fun house. Mike Chang is trying to coax Tina Cohen-Chang onto the Tilt-A-Whirl and Brittany and Santana are sitting next to each other on the Ferris wheel.

"Go on," Mrs. Sylvester says. "Join your friends."

"I don't have friends," I admit. "I'm what you call a loser. Or a loner. Take your pick."

"Oh Hogwash!" She says, "You're a smart, pretty young lady. Girls like you are not losers. Or loners."

"I'm not pretty, that's for sure. And I limp."

She gives me a pointed look, "You fashion sense may be lacking," She says glancing down at my full length dress I wore to cover my legs. "But you have some beautiful features when you're not moping around and as for your limp, if you don't let it bother you, it shouldn't matter what people think."

I turn away and my gaze falls on Sarah Puckerman sitting alone at one of the picnic tables.

"Is she a friend?" Mrs. Sylvester asks me.

"Used to be." I say slightly bitter. "Not anymore."

"You should talk to her." She says.

"No way, I wouldn't even know what to say."

Mrs. Sylvester lets out a frustrated breath. "Suit yourself, child. But when you're an old bird like me you'll be wishing you had more friends in your life. Being alone isn't fun, is it?"

"No. Being alone isn't fun."

* * *

_Puck_

I'm on my way to the festival and I feel like a moron. My pants are too fucking tight and this shirt has so much starch in it I can barely move. Once I'm done acting like the perfect son for my mom I'm getting the fuck out of here.

I see my mom right away huddled around a group of her friends from temple. "Noah!" She says when she sees me. "We've been waiting for you."

"Well I'm here." I say bluntly.

Mom nods once before introducing me to all her friends. I put on my act, shake some hands, and make idle chit chat. I'm finally able to sneak away for a few minutes and light a cigarette.

A familiar voice breaks me out of my thoughts. "Wow, dude, who dressed you?" Finn says shaking his head in disbelief.

"Fuck off, man, I'm not in the mood to deal with your shit."

Karofsky chuckles before lighting a cigarette of his own. "Lima hasn't been the same without you, Puck." He says before taking a few hits. "I saw Rachel's mom dancing with Mr. Schue earlier. They looked pretty tight. I bet they're getting it on. God knows Rachel's not getting any. That girl needs a bunch more surgeries before she'll attract any dude. Maybe that creeyp kid with the fro will take her to prom.

Nobody laughs, because Dave isn't funny. He's been a jerk ever since I came back, trying his best to piss me off on purpose.

Mike tosses a football in the air and asks if I want to come play with them. Forty-five minutes later we're heading back and I decide now's the time to have a little chat with my friend.

I've got Karofsky pinned up against the tree and he looks shocked. "Here's the deal," I say low and harsh as I grab his shirt and twist it up close to his throat. "You stop bringing up Rachel or jail or the accident. Got it? If you want to be an asshole and run your mouth fine, just remember the next time you do you'll find my fist in it."

"Jesus, Puck." He says when I let him go. "I was kidding, lighten up."

I fix him with the meanest most intimidating stare I can muster. "Up until two weeks ago I was living with a bunch of gang members. Don't tell me to lighten up."

* * *

The next day I'm over Quinn house, studying for a history test. Unfortunately I didn't realize that "studying" for Quinn meant her modeling a bunch of outfits in front of me.

"Come on, Q, I really can't flunk this test. They'll send me back to freshman year."

Quinn pouts and turns away from me. "I swear you pay more attention to the girls at school than me."

Is she fucking serious? "Are you kidding me?" I haven't so much as locked at another girl since I've been back. "Where the hell did this come from?"

"I see you talking to other girls, Puck." She says. "I'm not stupid."

I roll my eyes and flop down on the bed. "I haven't been with any other girls, Q. Besides you're the one who wants to keep our relationship a fucking secret."

She narrows her eyes at me. "I told you my dad is up for election this winter. His daughter can't be scene dating an ex-con."

I freeze. She says the term "ex-con" without any hesitation or regret. It's almost as bad as when she called me a Lima loser during one of our worse fights last year when she has a pregnancy scare.

"I got to go." I tell her gruffly.

"Don't go." She says trying, and failing, to be seductive. "I'm sorry, please stay." She says as she slides one of her dress straps down her shoulder.

"Quinn," I try to say. This is so fucked up. She doesn't need to use her body to lure me.

"Shh!" She whispers and yanks her dress strap up. "I think I hear my parents. Hide!" She shrieks pointing to the closet.

Hell no. I'm not going to hide in her closet and be locked up again. "When are you going to tell them we're together, Q?"

She bites her lip and avoids the question. Instead her eyes go back and forth between me and the door. "Can we just talk about this later?"

Fuck that noise. I'm out of here. I turn around and open the window.

"What are you doing?" She yells.

"Leaving." I say as I throw one foot over the ledge and toss my history book to the ground.

"Are you crazy?" She screams. "It's a two-story house. You'll kill yourself!"

I'm not about to be a prisoner in her room. It's obvious she doesn't love me. Otherwise she'd just tell her parents about us and we could put the past behind us.

"Later, Quinn." I say and I jump.

* * *

AN 2: Alright don't kill me! I know there is a serious lack of Puck and Rachel interaction but I promise the next chapter will have plenty. Seeing as though this chapter took me forever I can't promise the next one will be here soon but I'll make time to work on it. Leave a review and tell me what you thought!


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I'm back! I know it seems like I've been gone forever but I'm ready to get back into the swing of things. Let me tell you I was blown away with the response I got for the last chapter. My inbox was practically exploding with story alerts and favorites. Unfortunately, for all the response I got, the reviews were sorely lacking. Please try and leave a review if you get the chance (And, yes, I've realized I've resorted to begging) it really encourages me to post chapters quicker.

AN 2: Anyways about the story, this chapter has a bit more Puck and Rachel interaction. Now I know you all want me to stop this AN so on with the story!

* * *

_Rachel_

The day after the festival, Mrs. Sylvester is waiting for in the yard, muumuu in hand. I've tried to convince her to let me wear something a little less ridiculous but it hasn't worked. I take the garment from her and pull it over my head. Oh well, it's not like a need to look good for anyone anyway.

I heard Puck and his friends talking about me at the festival. I remember the way Puck stood there as if he had nothing to do with making me this way. His lack of a reaction hurt more than stupid Dave Karofsky's words.

"Alright, Rachel, change of plans." Mrs. Sylvester tells me as she claps her hands together. "Today we're going to clean the attic."

"Clean the attic?" I repeat dumbly.

"That's what I said, come on, follow me." She says gesturing to the house.

I follow her into the house and up some creaky stairs. I'm getting a bad feeling.

"Don't close the door," She calls from over her should. "It'll lock us in."

"That's dangerous." I say following her into the dark, musty attic. I can see cobwebs all over the place and a giant spider crawls past my foot. "I'm afraid of spiders." I say suddenly.

"Oh pish posh," She says dismissively. "You're going to have to face your fears one way or another. You might as well start now."

She directs me toward the middle of the room and takes a seat in an old creaking rocking chair. "You can start by dusting the trunks first."

I start with an ornately decorated wooden trunk. It's much more detailed than the rest of the trunks.

"Open it." She says from behind me.

I give her an unsure look before pulling the latch off the trunk. Inside are photographs, papers, and other small trinkets. There's a framed picture of a man and woman. "Is this you?" I ask her.

"Yes and my late husband Theodore." She sighs and leans back in her chair. "I remember it like it was yesterday. Those Nazi scumbags didn't stand a chance against Theo and me."

I whip my head around quickly. "I'm sorry did you just say Naz–"

Mrs. Sylvester doesn't let me finish. "We were so young but so much in love."

I smile sadly. "I wish my parents were still in love. They're divorced."

"Yes well life does keep going, doesn't it?"

I nod quickly. She's absolutely right. Her blunt honesty reminds me of time after the accident when they told me I'd never be able to walk or dance the same way ever again. Life keeps going. It has to.

Mrs. Sylvester sifts through the trunk with me and points to a few pictures. "There's my little Susie and her sister Jeanie."

The picture is of two young girls embracing and smiling so wide you'd think their faces might break in half. "They were close?" I ask her.

"As close as two sisters could be," Mrs. Sylvester tells me. "Sue was always so protective of Jean."

I nod and place the photo in the trunk. Taking one last look at the trunk's contents I close the lid and snap the latch shut.

"Alright enough messing around, Mrs. Sylvester says. "There's a box around her I need you to find. It's labeled 'taxes' I think. Hop to it."

I head towards a darker corner of the attic. It's covered in spider webs and I shutter hard.

"Come on Rachel, I'm getting older every second." She says annoyed.

I shuffle through a few boxes before I find the one I'm looking for. "Here it is, Mrs. Sylvester, I found it."

"Good job dear." She pats my back. "And please for the hundredth time, call me Doris"

I smile sheepishly. "Right, I'm sorry Mrs. Syl– I mean Doris."

"It's alright. Ok, now, just take this box and set it over by the door." She instructs me. "It will be our toss pile."

As soon as I finish pushing the box over towards the 'toss' pile, the doorbell rings. I look up and see Mrs. Sylvester rocking back and forth in her chair. "Um aren't you going to get the door?"

She gives me a puzzled look. "What? I don't hear anything, but then again these ears are about as good as my eyes. Be a dear and get the door for me."

"Sure." I say and head down the stairs. The doorbell rings two more times before I get down the stairs. I open it quickly, then stumble backwards. Because the last person I expected to see standing in front of me is Noah Puckerman.

Then, for the second time since he's been back, he reaches out to touch me.

* * *

_Puck_

I swear my legs almost give out on me. Because the last person I expect to answer the door at Mrs. Sylvester's house is Rachel Berry, wearing the most ridicoulus dress I've ever seen.

Her eyes are wide and she's stumbles backward. I try to grab her arm to keep her upright but I'm too late. Once on the floor she refuses my outstretched hand. In fact, she basically scrambles away from me on the floor. Her expression is panic stricken.

"Wh…what are you doing here?" She stutters.

"What are you doing here?" I shoot back.

"I work here." She says quietly. Still sprawled on the floor, my first instinct is to help her up but I think better of it.

She's staring at me and I can see the pure hatred in her eyes. "Look, seeing you here is a surprise for me too. Don't act like I did this on purpose. I work for Burt Hummel at his hardware store. He told me if I helped this lady with a job she needed done, it'd go toward my community service hours." I tell her.

She stares at me for a few seconds then maneuvers herself to stand up. I can see from the look on her face and the way she curls her fists that it's painful. I feel sick to my stomach when I think about how I indirectly did this to her. "I'm sorry." I say.

She scoffs and leans on the door handle to catch her breath. "Tell it to the judge." She mumbles.

"I did." I say quietly. "What do you want from me Rachel?" I ask her a little louder.

"I want you to leave." She spits out harshly.

I'm about to get in her face and tell her I'm not leaving till I finish my job, but an elderly woman coming down the stairs stops me. "You must be the young man Burt sent!" She says brightly. "Just follow Rachel upstairs, she'll explain our little project and you can get to work…"

"Puck," I tell her and she gives me a funny look. "Noah Puckerman."

"Well alright then, Noah, it's nice to meet you." She smiles again before shuffling out of the foyer. It's strange hearing my given name on someone else's tongue. Only three people call me by my first name: my mom, my sister, and Rachel. I wince and turn back to the aforementioned girl.

"So?" I start. "Where do you want me?" I smirk, leaning against the doorframe.

"I wish you never came back." She blurts out while hugging her small frame.

"My smirk turns into a scowl pretty quickly. "I'm not leaving till I finish this job for the lady. Looks like you're stuck with me."

Her eyes widened and she holds herself tighter. She turns around and starts walking away, so I take that as my cue to follow her. She leads me up a flight of stairs and stops. Rachel points to a box. "That needs to be thrown out. I'll put boxes there and you can dispose of them."

I nod. That's all I can do.

We work in silence. Rachel places the boxes in the 'toss' pile and I carry them downstairs. Mrs. Sylvester has me stuff the boxes in huge garbage bags and then lug them to the recycle bin at the end of the driveway.

I'm walking back inside and Mrs. Sylvester is carrying a plate of fresh baked brownies. They smell delicious. "Take these upstairs with you. You and Rachel can share."

I nod. "Sure." Jogging up the stairs and turning around the corner I can see Rachel working inside the room. There's a thin sheen of sweat on her brow and she keeps clenching and unclenching her fists as she maneuvers on her leg. She catches me staring and I turn away quickly.

I drop the plate of brownies on an end table and make my way over to the pile of boxes I need to movie. Rachel throws one across the room, just barely missing me. It was totally intention. "Watch it." I say, slightly irritated.

She turns around and ignores me again. Now I'm fucking annoyed. Rachel thinks she's the only victim in this mess. I got to stay cool tough because, god forbid, I lose my temper and the truth comes out. "Listen, Rachel, it was an accident. If I could take back what happened that night, I'd do it."

I turn to face her and she's staring at me. For the first time since I've been here I see Rachel's hard exterior crack. She's biting her lip and her eyes are glassed over. "Please, can't you just leave me alone?" She begs.

She swipes at her eyes angrily and turns around. Grabbing the plate she leaves the attic and I can hear the uneven pattern of her feet on the stairs. It makes my stomach churn.

Rachel leaves Mrs. Sylvester's house before me. I stay behind a while and finish bringing the empty boxes outside. When I'm done I look around until I see the old lady sitting on her lounge chair in the backyard.

She's shuffling around some papers and I can see that it's my community service forms. "Noah, there's one more thing I want to ask you before you go." She starts. "It says here you have construction experience. If that's the case I may have another job for you if you're interested."

"What kind of job?"

"Well, let's get one thing straight. Are you good with your hands?" She asks.

I smirk, '_depends on who you ask.'_ I think to myself. "Better than most," I say.

She beams at me. "Well, alright, Mr. Better-Than-Most, think you can build me a gazebo out of that pile of wood over there?" She asks pointing across the yard.

I'm torn. Of course I can do it, that's not the problem, the problem is: do I really want to work with Rachel all summer? She basically can't stand the sight of me. Mrs. Sylvester is looking at me, waiting for an answer.

"I can do it." I tell her honestly, "But do you really think it's a good idea for me and Rach–"

As if on cue, the phone rings loudly from inside the house. Mrs. Sylvester hobbles up from her chair and starts walking toward the house. "How about we just finish this conversation tomorrow?"

I nod once and make my way down the street in time to catch the next bus. Coincidentally enough Rachel's sitting in the first seat on the right. I sit down all the way in the last seat and wait till my stop comes. When my sister Sarah sees Rachel and I get off the bus together, her jaw drops.

"Did you just come home with Rachel?" She asks following me into the house.

"We were on the same bus, Sarah." I roll my eyes. "Relax."

"Who needs to relax?" My mom asks as she appears in the hallway. I'm not ready to tell anyone, especially my mom, about the thing with Rachel this summer. My mom's been obsessed with Rachel, ever since Shelby introduced the two of them back when we were kids at the JCC. She's been practically planning our wedding since we were six years old. Sometimes I think the reason our relationship is so strained is because I basically fucked up any chances of finding someone to give her future 100% Jewish grandbabies.

"It's nothing," I tell her. I turn around and fix Sarah with a hard glare. "So stop worrying about it."

Sarah glares back at me and runs upstairs. My mom shrugs her shoulders and leaves the room totally oblivious.

My mom wants to pretend like our little family is perfect. We're perfect all right, a picture perfect, royally fucked up family.

* * *

_Rachel_

I limp down to the bus stop, one day after school. I see Puck sitting in the back seat. It was bad enough we had to work together in that musty old attic. If I have to work with him again, I'll quit.

But then I won't be going to New York. _Dammit._

Maybe he's not actually going to Mrs. Sylvester's house today. Maybe it's just a coincidence that we got on the same bus at the same time. I get excited thinking about all the other reasons he'd be on the bus, but when I stand up at my stop and see him getting off with me my heart sinks.

"Took you two long enough!" an exasperated voice says. Mrs. Sylvester is making her way toward us with two plates. "Here, have some pie!"

I sit down at the picnic table in the yard and stare at my plate. Normally I'd dig in but as I watch Puck take the seat across from me, I'm suddenly not hungry and more.

Oblivious to the obvious tension between the two of us, Mrs. Sylvester prattles on, "Rachel, remember when you asked me if I was going to hire someone to build that gazebo?" I nod. "Well, Noah, here is going to help make that a reality!"

I drop my fork and it lands with a loud clank. My mouth is hanging open but I can't be bothered to shut it. "No." I say. "If he stays, I quit." I tell her, dead serious.

Puck fixes me with a hard glare before storming into the house, leaving Mrs. Sylvester and me alone.

"Rachel, what's gotten into you?" She asks me.

"I can't work here, if he's here!" I cry. "He did this to me!" I say pointing helplessly to my bad leg.

Mrs. Sylvester looks confused and turns back to the door where Puck has reappeared. "I don't understand."

"I went to jail for hitting Rachel with my car." He says from the doorway. His voice is cold, distant.

"Oh my," Mrs. Sylvester says, "Looks like we have a bit of a dilemma."

"Just make him leave." I plead.

Mrs. Sylvester keeps looking between Puck and me. I open my mouth to say something but he beats me to it. "Please, Mrs. Sylvester, just give me a chance. I just want to be free."

She gives him a comforting look and turns back to me. There's something in her eyes that's telling me more than words can say. _Forgive him._

I can't forgive. I've tried. If he'd innocently lost control of the car and hit me, it would have been forgivable, but I don't know how innocent the accident was. I don't want to believe it, but sometimes I wonder if he really did hit me on purpose. There are too many unanswered questions, questions that I'm not ready to face yet. He left me in the middle of the street like some animal. Is it even possible to forgive something like that?

Just like my father.

It makes me sick to my stomach to remember a time when I worshiped the ground he walked on. Noah Puckerman never had to work hard for anything in his entire life. Popularity basically chose him. A part of me is glad he's having a hard time. As twisted as it sounds, I'm thriving on his unhappiness.

I keep looking between Mrs. Sylvester and him. They're both waiting for an answer. They want me to give my approval, but I just can't do it. Mrs. Sylvester notices my internal struggle.

"Rachel, can I speak to you for a moment?" She says quietly. I nod quickly and we move a few steps away. She takes a deep breath and places her frail hands on my shoulders.

"You want Noah to stay and build the gazebo, don't you?" I ask her, already knowing the answer.

"Sweetheart, I'm telling you from personal experience, I know if you don't let him stay you'll regret it." Her words are so kind and thoughtful; it's hard to disagree with anything she has to say.

She removes her hands from my shoulders and shuffles back to stand in from of him. I trudge behind her and give him a cold hard stare. He knows I have control over him, and although he's not happy, he's knows better than to open his mouth and say something stupid.

"You can stay," I start, "On two conditions." He quirks his eyebrow but nods, "Number one, no one ever needs to know about this little arrangement and number two, we don't speak to one another. You ignore me and I'll ignore you."

He gives me a look like he thinks I'm crazy but then slumps his shoulders and nods once. "Fine, it's a deal." He agrees with me before turning around and heading to the backyard.

I run my fingers through my hair haphazardly before tugging it back into a neat ponytail. I ditched the muumuu a while back in favor for a pair of worn overalls. I go outside and make my way over to the garden.

"Remember, six inches deep!" Mrs. Sylvester's voice calls out to be from across the lawn.

I nod once before going straight to work. Puck has already made quick work of starting the gazebo. He's working quickly and efficiently as if he's spent his entire life perfecting the art of gazebo building. His muscles bulge against his t-shirt and his armpits, chest, and back are soaked with sweat. He's done an incredible job ignoring me, just as I asked. All of a sudden he stops hammering.

His back is still to me when he yells. "Will you stop staring at me?"

* * *

_Puck_

You ignore me, I'll ignore you. Those were the terms we'd agreed by. Just like every other girl in my life, Rachel is trying to control me. Fuck that noise. I'm sick of the games.

I know she's staring at me. I can practically feel her eyes boring into me. I'm so sick of this shit. Out of pure frustration I swing my hammer a little harder than necessary and end up smashing my thumb. I glare at Rachel.

She looks flustered and squirms on the ground. "I wasn't staring!" She sputters.

"The hell you weren't!" I spit back at her. "You want to gawk at an ex-con, you got it. But I got a question for you. You like it when people stare at you when you limp around like you're going to topple over any second?"

Rachel winces and sucks in a breath. She stands up as quickly as limps back into the house.

Oh shit.

I just insulted a crippled girl–I girl I'm responsible for crippling. I probably just signed my certificate to hell with that one.

Mrs. Sylvester is completely oblivious, snoring softly in her lawn chair.

I throw down my hammer and follow her into the house. I hear sniffling sounds coming from the kitchen. Rachel is standing at the counter, taking vegetables out of the refrigerator. She pulls out a cutting board and starts cutting them with a huge butcher knife.

"I'm sorry." I tell her. "I didn't mean what I said."

"It's fine."

"Obviously it's not or you wouldn't be crying."

"I'm not crying."

I lean against the counter. "There are tears running down your face."

She picks up an onion and holds it out to me. "My eyes tear when I cut onions."

My fists clench because I can't shake her and make her yell at me. I deserve it. "Say something."

Instead of answering me she continues to chop the onions.

"Fine have it your way." I say before stomping back into the yard. If she wants to live her life in silence then that's her choice.

The rest of the day goes by quickly. I spend my time outside working on the gazebo and Rachel stays inside. We don't cross paths all day until we both have to leave for the bus.

We're both standing awkwardly at the corner of Jarvis and Lake Streets when a car screeches to a stop beside me.

"What are you doing slumming on this side of town, Puckerman?"

Oh man, its Vic Mendonia and some other guys from the Carmel High football team.

"None of your fucking business," I say to him.

Vic's eyes narrow. "Your prison friends teach you how to pimp yourself on the street? How much are you charging these days?"

His friends cackle from the car and Vic gets out. "Is this your new girlfriend?" He asks.

I turn and see Rachel limping not far behind me. "Go back to the house, Rachel." I try and warn her. "This is between you and me Vic, leave her out of this."

Vic lets out a high pitched laugh. "Jeez, Puckerman, you really are scraping the bottom of the barrel. Does it turn you on when she struts around like a retard like that?"

I drop my backpack and charge him. We both land on the ground, but one of his friends grabs me from behind and pins my hands back. Before I can free my arms, Vic clocks me right on the jaw and the ribs.

Before I know what's happening, Rachel is in the middle of us, swinging her book bag and hitting Vic. The chick has more in her than she lets on.

The fight is finally broken up when I hear the sirens. Vic and his goons hop into their car and speed away. I run toward the direction Rachel went early. I rub my aching job just as Rachel reveals herself.

Our eyes lock.

No more than a few seconds later, the bus pulls up to the stop. Rachel and I get on quickly. I sit at my usual seat in the back but today Rachel sits down next to me.

It's demented and strange after all that's happened, but she feels safe with me right now. I don't dare touch her, 'cause that would mean this is something more than it is. What scares me to fucking death is that some part of my brain has decided this insignificant act of Rachel sitting next to me is the first step in fixing all that's gone wrong in my life.

* * *

_Rachel_

The next day at Mrs. Sylvester's house is basically the same as the first. Puck still follows my conditions: he doesn't talk to me as he works on the gazebo and I plant more daffodils.

I hum songs at work. It's like I'm making music a part of my life again. Sometimes Mrs. Sylvester hums along with me, until she starts belting out words to the songs so loud and forces me to sing with her. She always tells me what a lovely voice I have. She lets me know time and time again that there's no use in having such a wonderful gift if you're too afraid to use it. Sometimes we get so loud that I stop working and blink my eyes at this old lady who doesn't care what people think about her. I catch Puck watching us sometimes. I can't really figure out what he's thinking though. It's a mystery I have yet to unravel.

When Mrs. Sylvester nods off once again I make my way into the house to pour myself a glass of water. I pour one for Puck to and set it on top of the wooden planks.

Heading back inside to prepare a small snack, I remember I forgot to bring the brownie plate down from the attic last week. I go up the two flights of stairs to the attic and pick up the plate. The door closes and I shriek. Puck is standing in the attic with me, the glass of water in his hand, "Oh my God!"

He looks hurt. "I'm not going to hurt you." He says evenly. "I just wanted to say thanks for the water and I know it's not easy working together, but I do appreciate you not kicking me out."

"You can't leave."

"Why not?"

"Because that door locks automatically."

His eyes widen and he's looks back at the door. "You've got to be kidding me."

I shake my head slowly. I'm trying not to panic at the reality of being stuck with Noah Puckerman in an attic. Breathe, Rachel. In. Out. In. Out.

"Shit," He says under his breath. "You and me, in the same room, this is not supposed to happen."

"I know," I say. "Mrs. Sylvester will never hear us if we yell for her."

"So you're saying we're stuck here?" He asks. I nod and he curses again. "Shit."

"You already said that."

He paces back and forth and I watch him silently. "Seems like getting locked up has been a reoccurring theme in my life," He says bitterly. "How long before she usually wakes up?"

I shrug. "It could be a half hour or even an hour or more."

Taking a deep breath, he sits in the middle of the floor and leans against Mrs. Sylvester's' trunk. "You might as well take a seat," he says.

"I'm kind of afraid of spiders."

"Still?" He asks.

I blink surprised. "You remember that about me?"

"How could I forget? You and Sarah used to make me your personal spider killer." He smirks.

"Sit," he orders. "I'm giving the old lady two hours to free us and then I'm breaking that door down."

Neither of us say anything for a long time. The only sound is our breathing and the eerie bangs and creaks of the old house.

"Was it scary in jail?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"Sometimes."

"Like when? What did they do to you?"

I turn to face him and his expression is wary. "You know, you're the first one to ask for details."

"I'll admit I've heard the rumors. I suspect most of them aren't true."

"What'd you hear?"

I curl my lip, nervous to tell him. "Let's see, you had a boyfriend in jail, you joined a gang, you attempted to escape and got solitary confinement, you beat up a guy who afterward needed to be hospitalized…should I continue?"

"You believe any of it?"

"No. Why? Are they true?"

He leans his head back against the trunk and lets out a long breath. "I was in a fight and got thrown in solitary for it." He puts his palms over his eyes. "I was in solitary for thirty-six hours. God, I can't believe I'm talking to you, of all people, about this."

"Did they give you food and water?" I ask curiously.

He laughs. "Yeah they still feed you but you're stuck sleeping on a slab of cement with a steel toilet as your only companion."

"At least you were alone," I say. "I had to wait for someone to bring a plastic bowl for me to go to the bathroom while I was in the hospital. Then I had to lay there while they wiped me. It was so degrading."

He looks at me carefully. "Do the doctors say you'll ever walk without a limp?"

"They don't know. I have to go to physical therapy twice a week until I go to New York."

"New York?"

I explain why I'm working at Mrs. Sylvester's house every day and about my dream of leaving Lima so I can get away from the past.

"As much as I hate Lima, I kind of couldn't wait to go home." He says. "Coming back here meant I was free of being locked up."

"That's because you're Noah Puckerman. People will always accept you. The only thing that kept me from being a loser before was my future career on Broadway and Sarah. Now that I've lost both, I have nothing except humiliating stares and comments people say but don't think I hear."

Puck stands and paces the attic again. "Coming home has sucked. But leaving Lima would be a copout."

"To me," I tell him, "Leaving Lima means freedom. I feel locked up just living in this town where everybody reminds me what a loser I am now. "

Puck crouches down, his face right in front of mine, "You are not a loser. Hell, Rachel, you always knew what you wanted and went for it. I hear you when you sing with Mrs. Sylvester out in the yard. You're one of the most talented people I've ever met. So what if you can't dance or be on Broadway. With talent like yours, you could pretty much do whatever the hell you wanted."

I shake my head sadly and tell him the honest truth. "Not anymore. When you hit me, Noah, a part of me died."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Hello my lovely readers. I'm back with another chapter of _Leaving Lima_. Now I know some of you are probably mad at me since there are such huge time gaps between when I post chapters but I promise to try and post quicker.

AN2: Also some of you have been asking questions about the story. I'd love to indulge you but if I answer your questions I'm afraid I'll give away a substantial part of the plot. Looks like you'll just have to keep reading and reviewing!

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Puck_

"Noah! Noah, the phone's for you!" My mom's voice calls from downstairs.

I've been trying to sort out these mixed-up feeling I've been having since Rachel and I got locked in the attic. We were there for nearly forty minutes. In that short amount of time I probably shared more with her than I have with anyone else in my life. I'm in serious trouble.

I pick up the phone and bring it to my room. "Hello?"

"Hey, Puck, it's Finn!" A cheery voice greets me on the other end.

"'What's up, dude?"

"It's Sunday!" Finn says in a much too excited voice.

"So?"

"Come on, man," He says. "You're not telling me you forgot our ritual. You, me, Chang, Karofsky, remember?"

I remember. Me and the guys used to get together on Sunday's to watch football. "No chicks allowed" was our motto.

"I'm leaving for Chang's in ten. Be ready," Finn says, and then the line goes dead.

I'm in my briefs. I'd sworn to myself I'd sleep all day. But if I want to get back into a normal routine, Sunday football can't be ignored. I take a quick shower and when I'm pulling on sweats and a t-shirt the doorbell rings. I can hear my mom fawning over Finn downstairs.

"I'm so glad you called Noah, Finn. You're such a good friend to him. Here's some leftover Chinese food from last night."

When I get downstairs, Finn has that stupid goofy grin on his face. "Your mom rocks, Puck." I nod once before exciting the house quickly.

Everyone's already Mike's house when we get there. As we wait for the game to come on, I park myself on the old worn out sofa and lean back. The other guys have no idea how much I've missed this. Hell, I didn't even realize how much I missed it till today.

I've got Quinn back; I've got my friends back. I've got to forget about Rachel. I'm sure I've just been thinking about her because we're working together.

I came back to Lima with a mission to get my life back to normal. Sitting back and watching the game with the guys makes me realize that the status quo isn't all that bad.

That is until Mike starts tossing cans of beer at us.

"Nice man, where did you get the booze?" Finn asks.

"From the Fourth of July, I snagged a case from my parents' party." Mike says.

Finn and Mike catch theirs and open them right away. I catch the one thrown to me. Karofsky holds his can up. "To a new season of ball," He says loudly.

"Cheers!"

They all take a swig, except me. I may have jeopardized myself when I got in a fight with Vic when he insulted Rachel, but that was worth the risk. I haven't even been near alcohol since the night of the accident. I'm not about to jeopardize going back for a stupid can of beer.

"What do you think you're doing?" An adult voice shrieks from the staircase.

Shit, it's Mike's mom.

I would try to hide the beer, but that'd be pointless. We've already been caught. I watch the guys scramble into action as soon as they hear Mrs. Chang's small footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" She shrieks when she sees the beers. "Not in my house you won't!" She whips around quickly and points a finger at me. "You!" She screams, getting in my face. "You think you can barge back into my son's life and force him into your life of crime. Well, I won't let you do that, Puck."

Mike looks horrified and steps forward. "Ma, stop it."

"Don't try and defend him, Michael, he's not worth it." She looks down at the beer can in my hand, and then shakes her head in disgust. "I think you should leave now."

I put the unopened can down on the table. Mrs. Chang doesn't even look at it. She's too busy staring at me and sneering. "Don't bother coming back here and stay away from my son!"

There's no use even defending myself. Mrs. Chang already has her mind made up about me. Verdict: Guilty.

Besides if I try to explain the truth she won't believe me. The way she glared at me says more than words ever will.

"Well that was a buzz kill." Finn says to me when we get back to the car. "Now, where are we going to watch the game?"

"We could probably go back to my house." I tell him.

Ten minutes later we're sitting in on my living room couch watching the game. I'm totally into it when Finn starts to talk. "Dude, I need to tell you something."

Shoving a handful of junk food into my mouth I glance at him and turn back to the television. "Shoot."

"She's going to be pissed at me for telling you?" He mumbles.

"Who?"

"Quinn."

I smirk, Quinn who was recently in my arms just a few days ago. It wasn't the most romantic reunion, but whatever. After living with a bunch of guys for the past year, I'd take what I could get.

Then Finn opens his big mouth. "We're together, Puck, just thought you should know."

I drop the remote and it clatters on top of the table. "You and Q?" I ask him, eyes wide. "Together."

Her smiles nervously, "Yeah."

Jesus Christ. I blink at him a few times and open and close my mouth. "When?"

"You don't want to know."

Fuck. That means before I was arrested. Rachel was right. Quinn was playing me. Rachel had told me the truth. Quinn played the part of the manipulative bitch and I fell for it.

Finn is still looking at me but I can't deal with him right now. It hits me all at once. Everything is different now. There's no getting back with Quinn or hanging with the guys like old times. My life now has no resemblance to the way it was before. How could I have ever thought it had?

"Are you guys," I say carefully, "You know…"

Finn blushes bright red. "Yeah."

Shit. I blow out a deep breath and lean back against the couch. My girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend, was screwing us both and I was oblivious. Rachel had tried to warn me and I gave her a big old "thank-you" by insulting her and sending her to the hospital.

"We didn't mean for it to happen," Finn continues and I really want to tell him to shut the fuck up, "But it did and I love her. Jesus, Puck, I'd marry her right now if I could."

I scoff. "Yeah, alright, whatever, dude."

I need some space. Finn's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. He was always there for me but this crosses a line.

"You're an asshole." I tell him.

He sighs and shakes his head. "I knew you wouldn't understand. That's why I didn't tell you earlier."

"What's there to understand? You were screwing my girlfriend behind my fucking back."

"I'd thought you'd listen to me, Puck. What Quinn and I have is real."

"No way, man, you're perception of reality is way off. Real is that I was in jail for the past year, rooming with drug dealers and eating crap food your dog wouldn't touch. Real is not being able to wear your own fucking underwear and showering with twenty-five other dicks every day while guards watch. Real is my next-door neighbor who walks like she's balancing on stilts because her leg is so messed up from the accident. That's real."

Finn stands up and heads for the stairs. "When you want to forgive me and move on, you know where I am."

My fists are clenched so tight they're getting numb.

That's when Mom walks down the stairs. She smiles wide and says in a cheery voice, "Did you have fun with your friends?"

* * *

_Rachel_

I really wish my mom didn't come with me to physical therapy appointments. Spending so much time with Carl is bad enough but between the two of them, it's a total nightmare. "You really didn't have to come with me, mom." I tell her quietly as we pull up in front of the office.

She looks at me and smiles. "Well, sweetie, Dr. Howell actually asked me to come. He says there's something he needs to tell us both."

I slump in my seat and take a deep breath. This can't be good. Nothing good ever comes of situations like these.

"Hi Rachel," Carl greets me enthusiastically when we walk into the office. "Have you been doing those stretches I've taught you?"

"Yeah, well sometimes," I tell him.

He gives me a sheepish look then pats the table next to him. "Well, hop up here and let's start warming up those muscles."

I do as I'm asked and try and touch my toes. Like usual I only reach to about my knee on one side.

"Come on, Rachel, I know you can do better than that!" He encourages me.

I try harder and only get about a half inch farther. Carl doesn't look impressed. I close my eyes tightly and reach as far down as I possibly can. A streak of white hot pain shoots up my leg. "Ow." I whimper.

"Dr. Howell," My mom says frantically, "Can't you see she's in pain?"

"I know it's hard," Carl says to both me and my mom, "But in order for her to make progress, Rachel has to push herself." He turns and faces me directly. "I'm going to give it to you straight Rachel. I really don't think you're pushing yourself hard enough. How do you expect to get better if you won't even try?"

I give Dr. Howell a dumbfounded look. "I'm trying my best!" I scream at him, biting my lip to keep the tears at bay.

Carl nods but I can tell by his pursed lips that he doesn't agree. "How about we try going in a different direction?" He asks. "Why don't you start dancing again? Or how about you rejoin that glee club you were always raving about? I think it would really help."

That's the last draw. I feel the tears coming and there's nothing I can do to stop them. "I need some air." I choke out quickly before hoping off the table and limping out of Dr. Howell's office.

I remind myself to keep breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I have to stay strong.

I remember the last time I felt like this. It was the day my dad left. I wasn't strong then. It hurts too much knowing his love for me wasn't strong enough to make him stay. I wasn't worth being loved enough.

Glee club and the dance team were my saving grace but even that didn't work. I told myself I deserved to be admired on stage because I was worth something when I performed. Not only was I part of the team, I was the one my teammates looked up to.

The more those other dads showed up to performances, the harder I would work. It was as if I wanted those dads to regret I wasn't their kid. No matter if my dad loved me or not, there would be other dads that would do anything to have me be their daughter. Having other dads congratulate me was worth more to me than the out first place Sectionals trophy. I might not be worthy of my dad's love, but I was worthy of that trophy.

A pain in my leg shoots up into my spine, a mocking reminder that I'll never be worthy again.

"Rachel?" A voice calls out to me softly.

"Mom," I address her. "I don't want to go back to glee club or the dance team."

She looks at me sadly. "I know sweetie." She wraps her arms around me. "Dr. Howell just thinks it could be good for you."

I feel the tears threatening to spill over again. "I know, mom, but it's so hard. Broadway, stardom, it's all I ever wanted. Being a part of glee club again would be like getting a big slap to the face. No matter how much I want to see my name in lights, it'll never happen."

"That doesn't mean you should just give up." She says squeezing me tightly. "You're the most beautiful, talented, most amazing woman I've ever met. I know that whatever you decide you want in life, you'll get. It's all a matter of perception."

I say nothing but instead burrow myself into her embrace.

"I love you, sweets, more than anything else in the world. I hope you know that." She whispers quietly in my ear.

"Love you too, mom." I reply, smiling.

* * *

_Puck_

I call Finn and ask him to meet me at the basketball courts down the street from his house. When he pulls up there's a few moments of silence before I say what needs to be said.

"About Quinn," I start. "I want to call a truce." I say seriously.

He nods quickly and I take that as a 'yes' before throwing the ball to me. We play one on one for a while and I remember how basketball was never really Finn's game. For all the height he has on him, he's still a clumsy oaf who can't control the ball to save his life.

"Still a lousy hoops player," I say off handedly.

"Shut up, Puck." He says. "I could still school your ass any place, any time. In fact, put your money where your mouth is, big guy, tomorrow after school."

I move around Finn and make an easy lay-up. "I have to work."

He holds the ball. "You say that, but you never say where. Rumor has it you're a homo and meet up with your lover after school. Is he the one who gave you the bruise on your face?"

My muscles start to tense up. "Don't give me shit."

Finn starts dribbling down the court, his eye on the basket. "Are you going to threaten me like you did to Karofsky."

Finn shoots and the ball goes right in. This time I hold the ball under my arm, stopping the game. "He was trying to piss me off and you know it."

My old friend crosses his arms on his chest. "You've changed, Puck. I don't even know you anymore. And this has nothing to do with Quinn. You just can't accept that people have changed since you've been gone. You're not a sophomore anymore, you're not dating Quinn, and you're not a football stud anymore. You're a brooding, badass, ex-con."

I'll show him ex-con. On the next play, when Finn gets in my face I shove him to the ground.

"Foul!" He yells.

"You said to accept my badass, ex-con self. I'm just taking your suggestion."

"You know what you need?" Finn says as he stands up and brushes the dirt off himself, "A girlfriend. Name a chick you think is hot. Just throw a name out there."

"Rachel Berry."

"No seriously, name a chick."

"I am serious."

"Dude, that's sick. You went to jail because of her."

"I'm aware."

"You're telling me you have the hots for the Rachel Berry? The girl who walks weird because you ran over her leg with your car?"

"Finn, you're starting to act like Karofsky."

Finn looks confused as he's trying to comprehend what I just admitted to him. Then he bursts out laughing. He can't stop and falls to the ground in hysterics, holding his stomach. "That's hilarious!" He yells when he can catch his breath. "Oh my God, it can't be true," He says, then goes back to laughing hysterically again.

I'm seriously considering kicking his ass right now. But this isn't Vic or Karofsky, this is Finn. I take the ball and head home not before telling him to go to hell.

Not even five minutes before I'm home the doorbell rings. Thinking its Finn, I yank open the door ready to use my best friend's face as a punching bag. But it's not Finn; it's none other than my ex-girlfriend, Quinn Fabray.

"Can I come in?" She asks.

I shrug but leave the door open. She follows me inside and into my room. She looks around poking and prodding at the things scattered around my room. I'm tempted to tell her to keep her hands off my stuff.

"I know Finn told you about us." She says and takes a step towards me. I look at her and suddenly everything about her turns me off. Her clothes are too tight, her make-up is too thick, and she just looks desperate. "But I still love you, you know?" She says as she leans in for a kiss.

I turn my head away. "What? One boyfriend isn't enough for you?"

"I want you both."

"Sorry, Q, but no thanks, we're over. Way over." I tell her.

She scoffs. "That's what you think."

"Break up with Finn, Q, you're leading him on."

"No thanks, my parents think he's good for me, so I'm playing along. Besides, I need a boyfriend I can hang with in public. But you can be my private boyfriend, Puck."

"Not going to happen."

"You want to bet?" She steps back and points the tip of her fake nails at my throat. A wicked grin crosses her mouth. "You can be my little secret. You like keeping secrets, don't you Puck?"

My pulse quickens, and the mood in the room changes instantly. One thought burns in my brain. She knows.

"What do you want?" I say evenly.

"Oh Puck, don't look so sad. I just want you," She says and lowers her nails before going in for another kiss.

This time I don't turn away. I can't.

* * *

_Rachel_

Mom has friends over one night. It's just a few women she works with but it's obvious she's enjoying herself. They've tried to include me in their fun but I can tell I'm not wanted. I excuse myself quietly and mom watches me leave with a frown.

When I get up to my room I open the desk draw and rummage through the papers I have stashed away. I find the slip of paper with the phone number written on it. I dial the number and listen to the phone ring. It rings three times before a deep familiar voice answers. "Hiram Berry, here."

"Hi dad," I whisper quietly.

"Rachel, is that you?"

"Yeah."

"How's my little girl holding up?"

"Fine."

"And your leg? The last time we talked you were having a bit of trouble."

"It's better, I guess."

It feels good to talk to my dad. Hearing his familiar voice takes away the black cloud that always seems to hover over me. I don't want to tell him the truth about my leg because I only want to share good news. If I'm positive, then maybe he won't want to forget I'm his daughter.

"How's everything at home?"

"It's fine."

"Glad to hear it." He says. "I miss you sweetheart."

"I miss you too, dad. When can I see you?" No matter how many times I promise myself I won't beg him, I fail. It's like something inside me snaps when I think he's going to end the conversation. I want to yell at him and ask him if I'm good enough, but I don't.

"Soon," He promises, "When business settles down."

The black cloud returns, I've heard those exact words before, too many times.

"Rachel, can you do me a favor?"

I'm holding back tears as I say, "What?"

"Tell your mother I sent her a check last week and to have her lawyer stop calling mine. It's costing me a fortune every time he calls, like a hundred and fifty an hour."

"I'll tell her."

Someone else is talking in the background and I can tell I'm losing his attention. "I have to take another call, sweetheart. I'm sorry, it's important. I'll call you soon."

"Okay. I love you, dad."

"Love you too, Rachel."

I swallow hard and lean my head back against the wall. As much as I tell myself not to, I'm crying. I'd love to throw myself onto my bed and sob into my pillow, but mom will probably hear me.

God, I feel so alone. There's nobody in my life who remotely understands what I've been going through.

Well, there is one person.

My fingers dial the Puckermans' number automatically before my brain can comprehend what I'm doing.

"Hello." It's him. I don't even know what to say. "Rachel? I know it's you, we have caller ID."

I forgot about that. "Hi," I mumble.

"What's up?" He asks.

Tears come to my eyes. "I just...wanted to talk to you."

"Why are you crying? Are you hurt? Did you fall?"

I can't talk because I don't want him to know how weak I am. How much I need his friendship right now. God, all those years I thought I would die if he didn't love me as much as I loved him. But now I realize how stupid I was.

"If you don't answer me, I'm coming over whether your mom's there or not." His voice is hard and commanding.

"No, don't come over. Can you meet me at Lima Park in ten minutes?"

"I'll be there," He promises me.

I take the sleeve of my shirt and wipe at my eyes. "Noah?"

His breath hitches. It's the first time I've called him by his first name is over a year. Only three people call him Noah, his mother, his sister, and me.

"Thanks." I add quietly.

I splash water on my eyes in the bathroom, tell my mom that I'm going over to a friend's house, and head for the park.

Noah walks up a minute later wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a plain button-down shirt over it. He slows his stride when he sees me and, without a word, pulls me into an embrace.

Now I'm losing it, right into his shirt. I clutch onto him as the sobs start and don't stop. I let it all out, my lack of friends, my dad's conversation, and my confusion about it all. Noah doesn't laugh, he doesn't pull away, and he doesn't talk. He just lets me be me.

When I settle down, I lean back and witness the mess I've made on his shirt. "I made your shirt all gross," I say between sniffles.

"Forget the fucking shirt. What's going on? I couldn't understand a word you mumbled into my chest."

Now I'm half laughing and half crying. He looks down at my hand. I do, too. He slowly reaches out and takes my fingers in his. God, how I dreamed of us holding hands all those years ago. I look up at his eyes. Usually they're dark and brooding, but now I see warmth there I'd never noticed before. He leads me to the old oak. We both sit down, then he leans back against the tree right next to me and let's go of my hand.

"Okay, now talk."

It's easy to talk when I don't have to look at him. Everything starts coming out of my mouth at once. I tell him about Santana and Brittany and how it literally kills me to see they've moved on so quickly. I talk about my relationship with my dad and how he won't give me the time of day. I talk about feeling alone and confused and that it's practically consuming me.

"To top it off, my doctor said I should start dancing again or join glee club, and every time I think about it my throat starts constricting and I have to remember to breathe." I say. "And then I call you because you're the only one I feel I can talk to, which is ridiculous because it's you. "

"You're stressing too much about what might be. Do something to take your mind off thinking about what might never happen."

"Like what?"

"Join glee club again."

"That's not funny," I say, already stressing and wanting to flee.

"I'm not trying to be funny, Rachel." I hear him sigh, a low breath that comes out slow. "Can I see your scars?"

Oh my God. "No." I shake my head feverishly while still staring at the ground. And I'm aware that my breathing just got heavier.

"Please don't freak out on me."

"I'm not."

"You are. I went to jail for doing something to you and I have no clue what it looks like."

I turn my head and I'm staring into his eyes, darker and more intense than I've ever seen them. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do you remember the accident?" He asks, totally focused on my answer.

I shake my head.

"You remember nothing? Not our conversation before the accident or me hitting you with the car? Nothing at all?"

"No. It's a big blank. I only know what people told me." He blinks, then looks away. "We fought, you and I."

"About what?"

He gives a short, cynical laugh. "Quinn."

I'm trying to breathe evenly so I don't give him a hint that I do remember. Every word he spat at me when I told him I loved him. It's the only part of that night that's crystal clear to me. The rest is stuck in a foggy haze. "I don't remember." I lie.

"You said she was cheating on me, that you saw her with some other guy but you wouldn't tell me who. You were right, you know," He says. "She was with Finn before I got put in jail." He's staring at me again, and this time I can't look away. "You also said you loved me."

I swallow, still mesmerized by his eyes. Those eyes that never gave me more than a glance a year ago are burning into mine. "I told you I don't remember." I whisper.

"Rachel." He takes my hand in his and places my palm against his cheek roughened with a day's worth of stubble. He turns his head and kisses the inner, sensitive part of my palm, his eyes holding my gaze. "I should have done this a year ago."

My heart flips over as he leans in and touches his lips to mine.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: I'm back! Time for another chapter! Hopefully since summer is here and there won't be any new episodes of Glee I'll have more time to work on this story. Once again thanks for all the alerts and reviews. I absolutely love hearing your feedback!

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Puck_

It's not until the next morning that I realize kissing Rachel was the stupidest thing I've ever done. But, looking into her sad eyes and vulnerable face made me want her more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. Last night real emotions were flying. Last night honesty was flying. It felt so raw.

As I'm getting ready for school, I think about our conversation after the kiss. She was nervous, I could tell by the shaking of her lips against mine. She'd closed her eyes and clutched at me as our lips met. I swear I've never been more turned on. When I leaned back, she had a worried look on her face.

'_I can't believe that happened_' she had said.

I don't know what came over me last night. Why the hell did a kiss a girl that I should be avoiding at all costs? But being close to her just felt so damn right. Her skin was so soft and smooth under my fingertips and her hair smelled like honey. I couldn't resist her.

We've been through so much, our lives are meshed and we're stuck in this web together. The sick thing is I don't want to get out of it.

Rachel is frustrated and confused. She's always humming and singing the most ridiculous songs when we work at Mrs. Sylvester's house. You'd think I'd go nuts from it. She talks too much and she has opinions about everything. She's basically a bucket full of crazy. Still, I can't help that I like it when she blows her hair off of her face when she's working, or when she looks at Mrs. Sylvester sideways when she's insisting Rachel's planting her stupid bulbs wrong. And when she's not singing, I resist the urge to tell her to continue.

Now I've kissed her and she's left me sitting under a tree wondering how I got myself into this mess. As much as I want Rachel, I can't have her. Should I text her and apologize? Should I tell her it didn't mean anything? I can't do that because it did mean something. Quinn's kisses are hollow to me, but Rachel's different. And, dammit, I'm not sorry I slipped up and got close to her. I wanted to kiss her and I still want to kiss her.

I shake my head and tell myself to get a grip. The next day I head to school early to try to forget about Rachel and last night.

Rachel does her best to completely avoid me all day. We have three classes together and she refuses to make eye contact with me once. When school ends, I head out to the bus and sit in my usual seat at the back. I catch sight of her in her bird-printed dress and dark tights. I remember a time when she used to wear these ridiculously short skirts and her legs were bare. I miss seeing the tanned toned flesh of her legs I was so used to.

She slides in beside me and our knees touch. Does she notice the heat transferring from her body to mine? Does she even realize what she's doing to me? I'm definitely not a virgin but the slightest touch of this girl's knee is driving me insane. I don't even know what I'm feeling for Rachel, I just know that I'm feeling. It's something I've tried to avoid and deny until yesterday, when I held her in my arms while her tears spilled onto my shirt.

God, our knees touching isn't enough. I need more.

I move my hand carefully and hover it right over her wrist. I'm afraid she'll jerk away from me if I touch her. I can't help myself though. I touch the bottom of her wrist and she tenses but doesn't jerk away. I take this as a good sign and continue to trail my fingers upwards until we're palm to palm. I lace my fingers carefully through hers.

I'm holding hands with Rachel Berry.

The bus stops and it must be our stop because Rachel stands up quickly and frees her hand. We walk off the bus and head toward the old lady's house. The smell of cookies hits me as soon as we're through the door.

"You're here, finally!" Mrs. Sylvester shrieks happily when she sees us, "I just made a fresh batch of cookies you two need to try." We sit down at the table and Mrs. Sylvester gives us a puzzled look. "Is it warm out?"

Rachel quirks an eyebrow, "No, not really."

"Then why are you two so flushed?" She asks.

Rachel's face only seems to get redder and she leaves the house quickly to go plant more bulbs.

"I'm a guy." I tell her. "Guys don't flush."

She shrugs her shoulder and follows Rachel outside. When I finish my cookies I make my way into the backyard to work. I can hear her singing and humming. Sometime later, she goes back inside and I follow her again.

She's making lemonade when I find her. "Are you following me?" She asks quietly.

"Yeah." I reply.

"Why?" She stops squeezing lemons into the pitcher and looks at me. I never realized how pretty she really is. Her eyelashes are long and seductive and that slightly surprised look on her face is so fucking cute I can hardly stand it.

"You're where I want to be."

* * *

_Rachel_

"Rachel!" Mrs. Sylvester's voice bellows through the house.

Noah pulls back and gives me a helpless look. "I guess that's my cue to get back to work." He says and walks out of the house.

I'm standing here, holding a half a lemon in my hand. I'm speechless, I'm excited, and I'm a wreck. Noah wants to be where I am. This is not some minor guy. This is Noah Puckerman, the boy who I'd dreamed about for what seems like my entire life. The boy who I used to watch from my window just to tide me over until the next time I'd be in the same room with him.

The boy who hit me with his car and left me in the street.

When I look into his eyes, thought, I know he's not the same Noah Puckerman from last year. The old Noah was selfish and could care less about anyone else. Has my heart started to forgive him?

When the bus drops us off by our houses, I ask Noah if he wants to come over.

"Is your mom home?"

"Not for another hour." I tell him.

He shrugs. "Sure."

"My mom would freak if she knew you were here." I tell him.

"Yeah, mine too." He says.

We wander up to my room and he picks up the pair of red and white boxing gloves I have hanging over my bed. "Yours?" He asks.

"Yeah, they gave me those at the hospital." I tell him. "You know, to remind me to keep fighting."

He smiles wistfully at the boxing gloves. "I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of reliving the accident." He says it almost to himself, like it's a private thought he's sharing with me.

I take the gloves from his hand. "Me, too." And for the first time since that fateful night, I mean it. When his eyes bore into mine I ask, "Why are you here? Really."

He shakes his head. "I don't know." He runs his hand through his Mohawk, frustrated. "And, God, I know this is crazy and I should stay as far away from you as I can possibly get, but, and this part is driving me nuts, when I'm close to you I can finally feel things again. I laid awake last night thinking about holding you until all the hurt and numbness goes away, like I need you in order to be sane. Isn't that fucked up, Rachel? Maybe if you tell me it's fucked I'll believe it."

"It's not crazy, not by a long shot," I sputter, then go up to him and hug him as tightly as possible.

He puts his arms around me and holds me just as tight. "Could you ever forgive me?" He asks, his voice shaking.

A single tear runs down my cheek. I feel its hot wetness on my skin. I don't know the exact moment it happened, but something has changed. I've changed. And I think it's because I've finally let go of the past. I'm ready to live my life again. "I already have forgiven you, Noah." I tell him.

We stay that way for a long time. I don't know how much time has passed. It's as if I'm taking away his pain and he's taking away mine. Before, I was confused, how I feel about him, how I feel about the accident. But when he's holding me, I let go of the feelings of betrayal I've held onto for the past year. When he pulls back, his eyes are glassy.

"It's okay to cry, Noah. I won't tell anybody." I look at shelves with all my awards from various talent competitions. "I cry a lot."

"Yeah? Well I'm going to change that."

He's already changed it.

"My mom is going to be home any minute." I say as I stare into mesmerizing hazel eyes.

"I better go, then."

I nod. "Okay."

He steps closer, so close I can feel his heart beating against mine. I hold my breath when he leans back and puts his palm on my cheek. He lightly brushes my lips with his thumb, tracing my top lip and bottom lip as he moves his thumb across them.

"You have soft lips." He says.

I know I'm blushing hard when my face feels hot and I see him smirk. "You know I'm not really experienced with kissing." I say flustered.

"I wasn't going to kiss you."

"You weren't?" Now I feel stupid.

"Nope, the next time I kiss you I'm going to take my time and you said your mom was coming home any minute."

I check the clock and nod.

He bites his bottom lip, deep in thought. "No, the next time I kiss you it'll last a long, long time. And when we're done you're going realize being turned on is not about experience."

I'm still blushing furiously when Noah heads out of the house.

* * *

_Puck_

It's Sunday football night and I'm hanging out with the guys at Ken Tanaka's Sports Bar and Grill. I wonder what Rachel's doing today. She works for Mrs. Sylvester in the mornings, but she'll probably head home early. Is she home now, sitting in her bedroom? Or is she at physical therapy?

"Did you see that Puck?" Mike nudges me and points wildly to the television screen.

"Sorry man I missed it." I shrug and Mike goes back to watching the game.

I catch Finn looking at the doorway and signaling over whoever just came into the restaurant. I turn around and it's Quinn, followed by Santana, Brittany, Mercedes, and Tina.

"What are the girls doing here?" Mike asks Finn, appalled.

"Can't we just change the rules for once?" Finn asks.

"Fuck man I think I'm going to be sick." Karofsky gags. "When are you going to see she's got you by the balls, dude?"

Karofsky, the self-proclaimed asshole of our group, for the first time in his life is right on. Just as I'm about to proclaim him as an insightful genius, the girls reach the table. Quinn is wearing a tiny skirt Finn's jersey, his extra one from football practice.

Finn is staring at his trophy girl, and it's making me sick too. If that's what I looked like when I was dating her, someone should have shot me.

As the games goes on, I can see Quinn staring at me from the corner of my eye. When I turn to face her she's whispering something in Finn's ear and he smirks. I'm tired of watching them flaunt their relationship.

I stand up and call over my shoulder that I'm going to take a piss. When I exit the bathroom, Quinn is standing outside the door waiting for me.

"What do you want? Won't your precious boyfriend come looking for you soon?" I spit at her.

"He won't. He thinks you're upset, so I told him I'd talk to you. He trusts us both."

"He's an idiot."

"He also thinks you're jealous. Are you?"

"Oh, yeah," I tell her. She wants to hear it, so I give her what she wants. It's a game she likes to play. I'm tired of playing games, but it's the only way to deal with her.

"You've been elusive, Puck." She chastises me. "I thought we had an understanding."

The only relationship I want is the one I already have, with Rachel. It might not be public but it's genuine.

She takes a step closer towards me and trails her fingers over my shoulders. "You're like a drug, Puck, I just can't get enough."

She's thriving on the chase. Not me. It probably turns her on that someone can walk in any minute and catch us this close together. It's the risk factor giving her the rush.

She wraps her arms around me just as Karofsky walks through the door. He looks between Quinn and me, "I'm not even going to ask." Walking over to the urinal he passes Quinn. "Sup slut?"

"Nothing much, asshole." She bites back.

Right before the conversation gets too heated I stop it quickly. "Enough. Quinn, go back to Finn. Karofsky take a leak."

Hurt that I haven't defended her, she storms out of the men's bathroom.

Karofsky finishes, then as he washes his hands he says, "Puck, you think hooking up with Quinn is the answer? Listen, let Finn have the bitch and move onto someone else."

"It's a little more complicated than that."

Karofsky scoffs, "You're making it complicated."

Then it hits me. For once, Karofsky is right on. I'm letting Quinn manipulate me instead of the other way around. I don't need to appease her. I can just let her keep the chase going without giving her a chance to go in for the kill. Wow, I've been going about this whole situation all wrong, I can't believe the solution is so simple.

I grab my wallet and give him a twenty. "Here, pay the bill, I got to get out of here."

"Don't worry about it. I'm not going to tell Finn anything."

I look over my shoulder before I exit the bathroom. "At this point I don't even care."

* * *

_Rachel_

Noah comes over one afternoon, totally unexpected. When I ask him why his answer is simple.

"I wanted to see you. Is your mom home?"

"No, she left for work a few minutes ago."

Noah and I are friends. Okay, we're more than friends. It's strange and complicated, but it's the only unstrained friendship I have. We spend the day sitting on my bedroom floor munching on junk food and talking about school and football and laugh about the times when we were kids in preschool and the stupid things we did. Then we play gin with the playing cards my mother got me when I was in the hospital. He doesn't talk about kissing at all. He doesn't even look at me with that hot, wanting look I've seen before. He's got something on his mind. I don't know what it is, but it's distracting him.

After a while he puts down the cards and says, "I want to help you, Rachel."

"With what?"

"I want you to join glee club again. I always see you looking at those damn trophies on the shelves. You miss it.

I stand up. My heart starts racing as I hobble away from him. "I'm not going back to glee club."

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Rachel, I just want to help."

I turn my back on him. "I can't."

"Just try, Rachel, what'll it hurt?"

"I'm not going to be good. I won't be able to do any of the choreography and my voice is scratchy." I babble.

"First of all, Artie's in a fucking wheelchair. He can't do choreography and he's still in the club. Second of all, that thing about your voice is bullshit. I hear you singing at Mrs. Sylvester's house all the time. Your voice is the shit."

I crack a small smile. When I look at Noah, I want to make him proud of me. He's trying to fix whatever pain he's caused me. I want to help him, too. "Okay, I'll try," I say. "But don't expect much."

"I won't." He smirks.

Twenty minutes later we're in the process of sneaking into the auditorium. Noah's picking the lock with one of my hairpins.

"What on earth are you doing?" I shriek. "You just spent a year in juvenile detention center! Are you trying to send yourself back there?"

"Relax, crazy, we're not going to get caught." He says and the door opens with a soft click. "Let's go."

"What are we doing here anyway? The next glee meeting isn't till Tuesday." I ask exasperated.

"Well you can't join glee club if you don't have a kick-ass audition song. We're here to practice." He smirks. "Now go ahead and get your perky ass up on the stage." He says as I pass him and smacks my behind.

"Incorrigible." I mumble under my breath. I limp over to the stage and up the steps. I move to the center of the stage and look out.

Noah is sitting directly in the center of the auditorium. "Alright, show me what you got."

I frown. "There's no music." I say quietly.

He raises an eyebrow. "Who needs music? Are you trying to tell me the Rachel Berry needs music to stay on pitch?"

"What!" That's ridiculous. My pitch is absolutely flawless. How dare you even–" I stop midsentence. I know what he's doing. He's trying to rile me up and it's working. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and sing.

Sometime later, after belting out flawless renditions of several of my favorite Broadway songs, I feel exhilarated. I look at Noah and he's grinning widely at me. Just standing up their singing my heart out on stage felt incredible. An indescribable rush of adrenaline coursed through me with every note.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Noah cheers loudly. "Now that's the Rachel Berry I was looking for. You were amazing, baby."

My voice catches in my throat. It's the first time he's used that kind of affectionate term with me. I can't help but feel excited and nervous when the word leaves his lips. "Really?" I ask.

"Really." He confirms. "Watching you do your thing up their was fucking hot."

"It was?"

In a swift motion, he's up on stage with me and grabs my face in his hands. "I'm going to kiss you."

My stomach does a little flip and my nerves take over all emotions. "Here?"

"Oh, yeah. Right here, right now. Are you going to run away this time?"

"I don't think so, but I'm not sure." I saw and he smiles, amused at my answer.

I look up into his eyes that give me a glimpse into his private world, and then lick my lips in anticipation. When his lips slant over mine, all my nerves and insecurities fly out the window. After what seems like hours later, I can honestly say that I don't feel inexperienced anymore. Every touch of our lips and innocent and not-so-innocent caresses on both sides leave me feeling like I'm walking on air. Kissing him has become my new favorite thing. We move from the auditorium to my bedroom.

Noah leans back on the bed and moans. "We have to stop this or my body is going to suffer aftershocks for days."

Relaxing, I lay my head on his chest. "That was nice."

He chuckles underneath me. "Yeah, nice."

We're both breathing heavily. I take a deep, slow breath and bask in the moment. I could stay here forever, just like this. I can help but revel in the feeling of being wanted, protected, normal.

"I should hate you for making me mad like you did at school."

"Yeah, but you can't, can you? Besides, we've had a fucking awesome make-out session you'll be thinking about for weeks."

"You've got an ego problem." I tell him.

"Only with you." He chuckles then yawns.

"Do I bore you?"

"Not at all." He says, stroking my hair. "It's just, I don't sleep too well. And I'm so relaxed my body is ready to crash."

I lean up on my elbows and nibble slightly on his earlobe. "So sleep."

He shudders under me. "Here?"

"Sure. My mom won't be home until late." I start to get up.

"Don't leave me." He says. "Lie next to me." He pulls me down with him.

We're spooned together as if we've been dating for years. We're even sharing the pillow I've slept on since I was ten. The last thing I remember before waking up is Noah's slow, rhythmic breathing behind me as he falls into slumber.

But now I hear the front door open and I'm fully awake. "Noah, wake up, my mom's home." It takes him a second to get his bearings; we've been sleeping for over five hours. "Wait here and don't make a sound." I say, and then kiss him on his sleepy lips.

I slip out of his embrace and make my way downstairs. "Hi, mom." I say, my voice groggy from sleep.

"Hi, sweetheart." She looks equally beat. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I hate having to work these late shifts." She walks over and kisses my forehead. "Go back to sleep."

I nod and run back up the stairs. When I walk into my bedroom, Noah is halfway out the window. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" I half whisper, half shriek.

"Finding a way out."

I put my hand on his arm and tug on it. "You're not jumping out my window. Just wait fifteen minutes and I'll lead you to the front door. My mom sleeps like the dead and she falls asleep really fast. Besides, if we get caught we're in this together, right?"

It takes him a while to respond. "Yeah, right."

* * *

_Puck_

I met with Coach Beiste this morning, after convincing my parents I stayed out late because I was at Finn's and we lost track of time. Coach came for some sort of evaluation for the State of Ohio. She interviewed my family, even Sarah, and we hung out in my room while she grilled me with questions.

I told her I asked Rachel if I could see her leg, leaving out the part that we work together every weekday after school, or the fact that she's the only person who makes me forget the past year even happened. God forbid I should tell him I slept with her last night, in the literal sense of the word.

"You know the rules Puckerman." She shakes her head. "It's forbidden to confront your victim."

I wince at the way she says 'victim' "I didn't confront her."

She gives me a wary look then her expression changes completely. "Now I understand. You're sweet on her."

"No, no way." I say.

"Whatever you say, kid. You got to stay away from her though." She says

"It's not like I have a choice."

"Nope, you don't." She shuffles through some papers. "Anyways, it says here you're almost through with your community service." She nods. "Good work, Puckerman. You started out rocky, but you're a decent kid. Let's meet again next week and talk about what's going to happen after your release." I'm feeling energized after Coach Beiste's visit, knowing the jail threat is almost behind me. I just have to keep the fact that I'm with Rachel a secret.

I knock on my sister's door. I know she's in there, she only leave for school and meals. She doesn't answer so I knock louder. "Sarah, open up."

"What do you want?"

I sigh; this is going to be harder than I thought. "Just open the fucking door."

She opens it a crack. I push it the rest of the way open and walk inside. It's too dark in here so I pull the shade up. She glares at the intrusion of light and then at me. "What do you want, asshole."

"We need to talk." I tell her.

"I don't want to talk."

"Two fucking bad." I say, my hands crossed in front of my chest.

Sarah's gripping the handle of the door, like she's ready to flee.

"Is mom home?" She asks nervously.

"No." I tell her and she lets out a small breath.

I don't even know where to start. I just know I'm ready to say it out loud. It's been pent up inside of me for over a year. The demon's got to get loose. Life is not about covering up for crap and living in a fantasy world.

I take a deep breath and tell my sister, "You hit Rachel with the car and I took the fall for it. It sucked, but it's over and I wouldn't have done it if I knew you'd act like a fucking corpse the rest of your life."

Her eyes are wide as if her brain is registering the truth for the first time.

"Talk, Sarah. Say something, anything." I demand.

"I can't deal with it!" She cries out, and then hurls herself onto her bed face-first. I grab a box of tissues off her nightstand and toss it to her. I stand over her as she cries hysterically. "I'm sorry, Noah. I'm so sorry." She says between sobs. "I could have killed her."

"But you didn't."

"I stood there and watched as they handcuffed you. I let them take you away."

I was so used to being the troublemaker, used to being the one who screwed up. Sarah had been the squeaky-clean twin; I was the rebel. Even drunk, I didn't hesitate taking the fall for the accident. Sarah wasn't going to be handcuffed, arrested, and convicted. She couldn't handle it. I could.

The cops never even questioned it, when I confessed. Hell, my own mother didn't even question it. To think, it was all because my sister swerved to avoid hitting a fucking squirrel in the road.

"It's over." I tell her.

"No, Noah, it's not. It'll never be over. I'm going to carry this guilt around with me the rest of my life. I can't even look at Rachel. Hell, Noah, I can't even look at you. It's so hard for me; you can't imagine what it's like."

She's right, I can't.

Turning to me, she sucks in a frightened breath. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you? Promise me you'll never tell anyone."

I look down at my twin, the girl who I shared my mom's womb with, shared birthdays with, and grew up side by side with. She should know me like I know her; feel my pain as much as I feel hers. She knows this secret is tearing me up inside. She knows how badly it's affect me. But she ignores me and focuses only on herself.

Never in a million years would I have thought my own twin sister would become a stranger to me.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: So shocker on the last chapter? I'm amazed how many people assumed Quinn was the one that hit Rachel but I guess for a while it seemed like that. Once again thank you for all the amazing alerts, favorites, and reviews. I love hearing from you!

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Rachel_

I'm humming an old song my mom used to sing to me when I couldn't sleep. Her voice was so smooth and beautiful. Life was less complicated then. My dad lived at home and my leg still worked. Mom's only job was to, well, be a mom.

Now mom is working seemingly endless shifts at the diner and my dad has obviously more important things to worry about right now. Thanks to Noah, I'm finally coming to terms with it.

That first night he kissed me was magical. I was all ready to just be friends with him, cherish our platonic relationship, when it suddenly turned into something more. When I'm with him I don't think about my limp. All I think about is how good it feels to be able to talk and share and kiss.

Am I falling in love with Noah Puckerman again? I don't know. I'm so nervous and scared to be hurt again; I'm keeping a wall up so my heart is protected.

Little by little he's been chipping away at that wall.

After work we've been getting off the bus two blocks away so we could steal an extra few minutes together. Unfortunately, today he had a meeting with some counselor from the Department of Corrections. He said it was important, so I hope it goes well.

I've forgiven him for the accident. Two days ago he tried to bring it up, saying he had something important to tell me about it. I cut him off with a kiss and promises of forgiveness.

The wind is blowing, and the leaves are starting to fall. It's the end of summer. The trees and grass and flowers are getting ready for dormancy. As I plant the last of the daffodil bulbs for Mrs. Sylvester, I think of the winter they'll have to survive before thawing and being ready for their first peek of the sun.

I look up from daydreaming about songs and trees and Caleb to find Mrs. Sylvester standing over me. I stop humming.

"You seam awfully cheery." Mrs. Sylvester quirks an eyebrow at me.

"I only have five more bulbs to plant." I tell her.

"Good. Right on time too, nice work Rachel." She commends me.

I smile and look up toward the sky. The weather is changing and the first chill of winter hangs in the air. The wind whips against my face and I sigh.

"Alright, enough lollygagging, Rachel, come inside now." She calls out to me.

When we're washing and drying dishes in the kitchen Mrs. Sylvester sways and holds the counter for support.

"Are you alright?" I ask her carefully.

"My new medications are wreaking havoc with these old bones, that's all. It's nothing to worry about."

I do worry though. Before I leave, I'll call the diner and ask Sue Sylvester if she can come check on her mother later. I head to the bus stop after I'm convinced she's okay. A car screeches by me as I walk. I recognize it as the same car with the guys who got in a fight with Noah.

"Check it out guys. It's Puckerman's retarded girlfriend." Someone yells out the window.

I bite the inside of my lip and keep walking.

"Hey, Vic, I think she wants you. Why don't you get over there and show her a good time?" Another voice says.

The hair on my neck stands straight up and I start limping faster down the road. There's no way I could outrun them if they start chasing me. I'm formulating a plan to knock on one of the neighbor's doors to call the place if need be. I turn around in the opposite direction but in the process I fall down. Red sticky liquid seeps down my leg as I try and stand up. My palms sting and I'm biting my lip hard so I don't cry in front of them.

"Nice going, loser. Wait to trip over your own feet." A voice cackles.

Relief fills me when I see the bus come roaring down the street. I limp over to the curb and wave the bus down, and then glance to see if the car is still there. The bus driver gives me a concerned look but I ignore him.

Nothing can cure me, no amount of physical therapy or surgeries. The old Rachel, the Broadway star without a debilitating limp, the old Rachel, who could run away from danger, doesn't even exist.

Noah is outside mowing his lawn as I limp down the street. He stops the motor and rushes over to me as soon as he glances my way. "What happened? Tell me what happened."

I'm trying to hold back tears, "I'm fine."

He looks around to make sure people aren't looking, then cradles my face in his hands and threads his fingers through my hair. "You're not fine. Damn it, talk to me."

I look up sadly. "It was that Vic guy."

His eyes blaze, "I'll fucking kill him if he touched you."

"He didn't." I reassure him.

"I'll make sure that never happens again, Rachel."

I smile warmly at him. "You're not going to always be able to protect me. What are you going to do when I'm in New York, fly over and beat up all the bad guys who make fun of me?" I say sadly before untangling myself from his embrace and limping slowly back to my own house.

* * *

_Puck_

I said Vic was going to pay but I didn't know how to do it legally. That is, until the guys let me know that our next football game is against Vic's school.

I am officially a McKinley Titan linebacker now and I'm just itching to come face to face with Vic on the field.

I'm in the locker room with the rest of the team, getting ready for the game.

"Puck, dude, you look like you're about to kill someone," Finn says as I jump rope to warm up.

"He's in the zone." Mike says. "Ain't that right?"

I don't answer. Coach Beiste stops me and pats me on the back. "You haven't been to practice, Puckerman. You sure you're ready?"

I put my mouth guard in. "Yeah, Coach."

The game starts off slow but I'm just getting into my groove. I watch Vic from the corner of my eye the entire game. About a quarter into the game I plant myself directly in front of him. He glances up and smirks at me.

"How's your girlfriend?" He sneers.

"Better than yours," I say.

"She's a cripple Puckerman, and you'll be the cripple after this game."

I can hear the ball being hiked and I charge. All my pent up anger and aggression is unleashed in a second. I let my anger get the best of me and yank him to the ground by his face mask. The look on his face when he hits the ground is satisfying but I can see the yellow flag being thrown from the corner of my eye.

"Puckerman!" Coach Beiste screeches. "Get the hell over here." I jog over and Coach gives me a heated look. "What are you doing? My team doesn't play dirt. Now either you go out there and try to win the game, or there will be hell to pay. Which is it?"

* * *

_Rachel_

Mrs. Sylvester is going to be the death of me. She's been trying for who knows how long to get me behind the wheel of the black monstrosity sitting in her garage.

"I'm really not ready to drive yet." I tell her. "You can drive and I'll sit in the passenger seat."

She rolls her eyes. "Nonsense, I can barely see two feet in front of me. Now come on and get in the car." She says as she dangles the car keys in front of me. I take the keys from her carefully and we both slide into the car.

"I can't do this." I tell her. "I'm not ready."

She gives me a stern look. "Rachel, put the keys in the ignition." The look on her face tells me she's not messing around so I do it and start the car.

"What are you afraid of, dear?"

"Hitting someone; getting into an accident." I gulp.

"This part of you has to change, you know, being afraid to take chances is scarier than actually doing things that challenge you." She tells me.

"I haven't driven since the accident." I say timidly.

"Well, then, it's about time you did." She says, "Now back up slowly so you don't hit the fence."

I take a deep breath, press my foot on the brake, and put the car into reverse. Slowly releasing the brake, I turn back and make sure I'm all clear to back out of the driveway. Seconds later we're safe at the bottom of the driveway and I back out into the street. I'm trying to convince myself not to have a panic attack, but I don't think I'm being too successful. Part of me is excited to drive again and get that fear out of my life, but the other, stronger part of me, wants to put the car in park and limp home. I hear Noah's voice inside my head, pushing me to do it.

"Very good, Rachel!" Mrs. Sylvester cheers! "I knew you could do it!"

With that vote of confidence, I put the car into drive and slowly head down the street. My feet aren't used to the pedals and I'm stopping too hard and accelerating too fast. "Sorry," I say after we come to a stop sign and Mrs. Sylvester jerks forward.

She clears her throat. "No problem. Let's take it a little easy on the accelerator and brake, shall we?"

"Uh, sure." But when it's my turn to cross the intersection, I take my foot off the brake and gently put pressure on the accelerator. I pump it a bit because I don't want to jerk Mrs. Sylvester to jerk forward again.

But now I'm making it worse. Oops. "You'd probably be a better driver, even with your vision problems," I say seriously.

"I might have to agree with you, dear." She says tightly.

I give her a sideways glance. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"Just look at the road, not at me," She orders. "My looking sick has nothing to do with your driving."

She directs me to a place called _Holly's_. It has cute dresses in the window. I follow Mrs. Reynolds into the store where dresses in all colors and patterns are positioned on racks.

Mrs. Sylvester spots a dress and runs her fingers over the material. "Did you know every fabric has its own personality, just like my daffodils? For some, the softness and weight matters. For others, it's the way the fabric moves and you can't discount color vibrancy."

"How do you know so much?" I ask her.

"Honey, when you're as old as I am, you know more than you want to know."

A tall woman with long blonde hair bounds toward us. "Well hello there Doris!" She says. "Long time no see."

"Holly! I'm glad you're here." She says. "Rachel this is Holly Holiday. She owns the store." She turns back to Miss Holiday. "We need your help to find a dress for her." Mrs. Sylvester says pointing to me.

"For me?" I say, following behind as Holly leads us through the store. Mrs. Sylvester stops and turns to me. "You need a little something to spice up your wardrobe, Rachel. All you wear are solids and, to be completely honest, your clothes are a bit too big and casual."

I look down at my black cotton pants and grey t-shirt. "They're comfortable."

"That may be so but, we're having dinner tonight and I want you to dress up. Consider it an early Christmas gift."

Holly leads us to a rack of short cocktail dresses. "These just came in from Europe. It's a new silk/ washable blend."

Mrs. Sylvester slides the silky, powder blue colored dress between her fingers. "Too stiff, she's used to cotton, so I'd like a softer fabric."

"I don't wear short dresses," I tell them.

Miss Holiday leads us to another corner of the store. "How about a cotton/wool blend?"

Mrs. Sylvester shakes her head. "Too hot."

"Rayon?"

"Too clingy."

I'd expect Holly to get frustrated, but she just puts her hand to her chin in thought. "I may have something that you'd like in the back."

Holly comes out a few seconds later with a light green dress draped over her arm. Mrs. Sylvester runs her fingers up and down the dress. "The fabric is fantastic!" She exclaims. "Rachel, what do you think?"

The first thing I can think of when I see the dress is that the color reminds me of Noah's eyes. I'm dying to try it on. "It's a lovely shade." I say. I try it on in the dressing room. It has spaghetti straps and a scooped neckline. The middle is cinched at the waist before waves of the material flow down and stop just above my ankle. When I walk in front of the mirror you can hardly tell I have a limp.

Holly smiles at me. "I think we have a winner." She says.

Mrs. Sylvester smacks her lips together. "It's perfect. We'll take it."

"You have a very generous grandmother," Holly winks at me.

I look over at Mrs. Sylvester, who is across the store looking at another dress. "I know. I couldn't have picked a better one myself."

When I go back to the dressing room to take the dress off, Mrs. Sylvester stops me. "Keep it on. We'll be going to dinner from here and you won't have time to change. "

"Which dress are you trying on?"

"Old ladies don't need new dresses. Now stop the chatter and let's move on."

I put my hands on my hips. "I'm not leaving this store until you buy a new dress, too."

Mrs. Sylvester's mouth opens in shock.

"Don't look so startled, Grandma," I say. "It doesn't suit your face."

Her mouth snaps shut. Then she throws her head back and howls with unabashed laughter. A half hour later we're back in the car.

"I want you to deduct money out of my paycheck for the dress. I insist," I say.

Mrs. Sylvester just smiles without responding.

"I'm serious."

"I know you are, dear, and I appreciate it. But I'm still buying it with my own funds."

I shake my head. "Fine." I say, "Where too?"

"Head towards the diner," She says.

I steer the car around and drive to the diner.

Mrs. Sylvester ducks down. "Now head towards the back," She whispers. "And whatever you do, don't let anyone see you."

This woman can't be serious but from the look on her face I can tell she is. I slide down in the seat and creep toward the back of the diner as if we're here to rob the place. I stop near the dumpsters. "What are we doing here?" I whisper.

"Keep the car running, just get out and knock on the back door three times. Then you pause for two seconds and then knock another three times." Mrs. Sylvester sinks lower into her seat. "When someone answers, say, '_the red hen has flown the coop_' and wait."

I give her my best, _'Are you crazy?'_look. "I don't get it." I say.

"You will if you follow my directions. Now go!"

This is by far one of the most ridiculous things I've ever done. When I get to the back door, I follow Mrs. Sylvester's instructions.

Jacob, one of the bus boys, opens the door a crack.

I burst out laughing as I say, "The red bird has flown the coop."

"Don't you mean hen?"

"Oh yeah, sorry, let me try again. "The red hen has flown the coop."

I think Jacob is laughing as he says, "Wait here." When he comes back he's holding two boxes in his hands.

"What's inside?" I say.

"Don't ask me, it's a surprise for you and Mrs. Sylvester."

When he closes the door, I bring the boxes to the car and slide into the driver's seat. "We got the goods."

"Great, now head back to my house." Mrs. Sylvester is smirking as I drive up to her house. When I pull up to the garage, I finally figure out what this is all about.

The gazebo is finished, and Noah has hung white lights all around it. White candles are lit inside, making the whole gazebo light up. Noah is standing beside it, wearing khaki pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

When he winks at me and flashes his smile, I feel another piece of armor chipping away.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: I'm back and with another update! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Puck_

I hurry over to the car and open the door. Offering my hand to Mrs. Sylvester I wink at her. "You look hot."

She chuckles softly. "If only I were sixty years younger, sonny boy."

I laugh with her. "So, how did it go?" I whisper softly.

Mrs. Sylvester laughs again. "I had Rachel say that ridiculous sentence we came up with."

I smirk. Mrs. Sylvester and I are partners in crime tonight. I had her stalling Rachel all day today so I could make everything perfect. I've been putting this night together in my head for a week already.

When I catch sight of Rachel I'm speechless.

"Don't look so startled, Noah." Mrs. Sylvester nudges me. "It doesn't suit your face."

Rachel walks up to me, her dress showing off her curves. I wonder if my jaw is on the ground.

"The gazebo looks great." She smiles shyly.

I don't look away from her. Hell, I can't take my eyes off of her. I'm practically salivating. These two unlikely women are my saving grace.

I've set a table inside the gazebo, complete with a three-course meal, compliments of all the money I saved from my pool-cleaning business. I added a little spot heater to keep the gazebo warm, and have a portable radio with music playing softly in the background.

After I've pull our chairs for both ladies I wince as I bend down to sit.

Rachel notices immediately. "What's wrong, Noah?"

"Nothing," I say after everyone has been served but I can tell neither of them are buying it. "Okay, okay. I played in the big football game last week."

"I didn't know you were back on the team."

"Well, it was a one time thing. I think."

"Are you sure your alright?" Rachel asks.

"I'm fine, baby, relax. Just a bit bruised is all."

Rachel gives me a look but brushes it off. "I can't wait till the daffodils bloom." She says changing the subject. "You'll have to send me pictures while I'm in New York."

I still can't believe she's leaving, right when I fell for her.

"Speaking of New York." Mrs. Sylvester says. "Have a safe trip but don't forget where you came from."

Rachel smiles. "Who could forget Lima?" She says and we clink our glasses together.

After dinner, I open the boxes of pie from the diner. You'd think Rachel and Mrs. Sylvester were related by the elated expressions on their faces when I set the pie in front of them. We all take a fork and dig in.

"This has been the most magnificent day of my life since my husband passed, may he rest in peace. Thank you both. But these weary bones need a rest."

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks, concern lacing her voice. We both get up to help her.

"No, you two sit down and enjoy. I just need to rest a bit."

Regardless to what the old lady is claiming, Rachel helps her upstairs while I clear the dishes. "She okay?" I ask when Rachel comes back outside.

"I think so. She went to the doctor yesterday. He wants to run some tests on her, but she's too stubborn to go."

I watch Rachel. God, anyone who's with her is infected by her humility and honesty. "Care to dance?"

"I can't," She says. "Not with my leg."

I take her hand in mine and lead her back into the gazebo. "Dance with me, baby." I urge as I put one arm around her back and pull her close.

We sway to the music. Slowly she relaxes into my arms. "I never imagined it would be like this." She says into my chest.

When her leg starts to hurt, I clear a place on the floor and we lie side by side next to each other.

"What did you ever see in Quinn?" She sits up and asks.

"Hell, I don't know." She was popular and pretty. Someone who all the guys wished they could date. She used to look at me as if I was the only guy who could ever make her happy.

She nods softly and lies next to me using my arms as a pillow.

We watch the candles burn down one by one. When there's only one candle left, I kiss her soft lips and trace her curves with my hands until she's breathless.

"Let me see your scars," I say when we're both panting and coming up for air. I take the hem of her dress in my fist and slowly slide the material up.

She stills my hand with her own and pushes the material back down. "No."

"Trust me."

"I...I can't," She stutters. "Not with my scars."

Her words hit me like a cell door slamming closed. Because even if she thinks she forgave me, even if she made promises of forgiveness, even if she kisses me like I'm her hero, I finally realize she can't get over her anger inside. And never will fully trust me.

I lie back, totally frustrated, and lay my arm over my eyes. "This isn't going to work, is it?"

Rachel sits up. "I'm trying," She says, her voice full of regret.

I want to tell her I wasn't responsible for hurting her leg, but I can't. What if Sarah was right? I can't let my sister go to jail when I've already paid for her mistake. I'm committed to living with that blame forever.

The night of the accident, I was supposed to drive Sarah home. But I was too drunk and enraged from Rachel's accusations. Staying with Quinn and making sure she didn't go home with any other guy was more important than anything else. God dammit, my stupid fucking ego. I had no idea Sarah took my keys until she came back to the party ranting like a lunatic about an accident.

The rest, as they say, was history.

* * *

_Rachel_

I had everything I could ever ask for and I screwed it up. Noah loved me and all I had to do was show him my scars to prove how much I loved and trusted him.

But I couldn't. Something was holding me back.

I told my mom I was sick and couldn't go to school. The light green dress peaks out of my closet, a cruel reminder of how I won Noah and lost him just as quickly.

We he took me home, he promised we'd remain friends. That's the most important thing right? If that's so why have I been crying my eyes out all morning.

I call Mrs. Sylvester to see how she's doing after last night.

Sue Sylvester answers the phone. Her voice is flat. "Hello."

"Hi it's Rachel. Is Mrs. Sylvester there." I ask.

Sue doesn't say anything for a long time and my throat gets a huge lump in it.

"My mother died this morning, Rachel."

"No," I whisper as my life comes crashing down on me. "It can't be true. We were together. Last night she was dancing and laughing and–"

"Calm down, Broadway." She says in her usual Sue Sylvester tone, then she takes a deep breath. "Look Rachel, you should know that my mother was so grateful to have you. She loved you like the granddaughter she never had."

"Where is she? Was she alone when she died?"

Sue clears her throat. "They just took her away in an ambulance. She died in her sleep, no pain. Her heart has been bad for years, Rachel. It was only a matter of time."

Tears roll down my cheeks as I remember the times we spent in the past few months. She taught me so much about life. "The daffodils, she'll never see the daffodils come up," I say, stifling my emotions.

I don't know what else to say. Mrs. Sylvester had so much still planned. Having my mom and me over for dinner, watching the daffodils bloom in the spring, eating pie at the diner.

"I'll miss her."

"I know you will. She never wanted a funeral. She said they're just an excuse for depressed people to make senseless chatter."

I smile wistfully. "That sounds like her."

"Listen, if you want to come over and take something from the house before we sell it, you can."

She can't sell the house. The daffodils, the gazebo, everything she cared about in the last two months are for nothing.

In the evening my mother and I drive to Mrs. Sylvester's house. She's holding my hand as we great Sue at the door. "Take what you want." She says curtly.

I nod and make my way to the laundry room. Inside, all clean and folded, is the muumuu.

I pick it up and clutch it to my chest. It was Mrs. Sylvester's way of protecting me, covering my clothes so I wouldn't get dirty. "Can I have this?" I ask.

Sue seems surprised I'd want it, but says, "I was serious when I said anything."

There's two more things I want. I head to the kitchen and open cabinets until I find it. My mom is shrugging to Sue, who is as baffled as her. "It's got to be around here somewhere. There we go." I open one of the top drawers and on a piece of old, stained and ripped linen paper is her favorite snicker-doodle cookie recipe.

"Anything else?"

"One more thing."

I head up to the attic and pick up the picture frame inside the trunk. "This is the last thing."

I stare at the picture of two people madly in love on their wedding day.

May they both rest in peace.

* * *

_Puck_

Rachel wasn't at school yesterday and I haven't seen her all morning.

During third period I can't focus. So I take the bathroom pass and head out the door. But I don't head straight to the bathroom. I turn the corner and go down the hall where I know her locker is.

It's official, I've turned into a stalker.

"Looking for someone, Puck?" It's Quinn, with a hall pass of her own dangling from her fingers. "Rachel Berry, maybe?"

"Go back to class Q." I say. I'm really not in the mood to deal with her mind games.

Quinn rolls her eyes but keeps following me. "No seriously, I don't get what you see in her."

"Nothing." I say just to get her off my back. "I see nothing in Rachel Berry.. If anything she's been a distraction because I can't have you." The bullshit is flying because I need to protect Rachel and my sister at all costs.

The sound of someone behind me makes me turn around. It's Rachel. She's heard every lying word out of my mouth.

Quinn slinks toward her. "Oh Puck, did you tell Rachel the truth about the accident?"

"Quinn, don't." I say in a warning tone. "Or I'll clue Finn in about what's been going on between you and me."

Rachel limps toward me. "What's been going on between you and Quinn, Noah?"

Quinn puts her hands on her hips and lets out a cruel laugh. "Noah? Seriously? That rich. But anyway, Puck, who don't you tell her how many times we've been together since you came back."

What can I say? I want to tell Rachel the truth, I'm going to tell her the truth. About everything. But not here, not in front of Quinn.

"Say something," Rachel orders, her eyes on fire. When I don't, she slaps me and limps away.

About a half out later I see Rachel again when the entire student body of McKinley High is packed into the gymnasium. I fucking hate pep rallies. The entire time I try to make eye contact with Rachel but she absolutely refuses to look. At the end of the pep rally, Rachel is standing with the rest of the mob pushing through to get out. She looks so fragile standing there.

There's some pushing and shoving. Two junior guys are fighting. And it's right where Rachel is. "Rachel, watch out!" I yell, but she can't hear me. She doesn't notice the commotion behind her, but I'm too late. The bigger guy is pushed into Rachel, who trips over two steps and lands flat on her knee.

"Rachel!" I yell, pushing people out of the way to get to her. I finally reach her and kneel next to her. "Are you alright?"

She blinks, looks like she's going to be sick, and sits up.

People are starting to stare and point. Some of the assholes are laughing. I grab Rachel's elbow. She tries to pull away but I hang on tight. "Are you okay?" I ask once she's standing.

Karofsky grabs my shoulder and pulls me back. "Puck, what are you helping her for? The bitch was responsible for putting you in jail."

I take my fist and slam it right into Karofsky's face. He charges me and we're at each other's throats, fists flying, until Coach Beiste and Mr. Schuester break us up. "Where's Rachel?" I shout.

Coach gives me a long hard look. "She went to the nurse."

"I've got to see her."

"The only thing you're seeing is the principal's office, Puckerman. What the hell is wrong with you?"

I'm escorted to Figgins' office. I have no choice since Coach has my wrists pinned behind my back. "Wait here for Principle Figgins," She barks.

As soon as she leaves the office, I hop over the front desk and open the nurse's door. Rachel's pants are rolled up just above her knees.

My gaze immediately focuses on her scars.

The angry lines from where the doctors must have sewed her up are pink and look like her leg has been clawed by a pack of wolves. By her knee, where the biggest sets of marks are, I think is a skin graft, because it's a different shade and doesn't match the rest of her soft tan skin.

Tearing my gaze away from her leg, I look up at her. "I'm so sorry, Rachel.".

Her expression is hard, her eyes shuttered. "Go away, _Puck_." She spits and I wince. Or do you want to take a picture so you could show Quinn? Then you'd both have something else to laugh about."

* * *

AN2: Whoops! Looks like a cliff-hanger. Guess you'll just have to wait to find out what happens. Maybe if you leave a review I'll have the next chapter out as quick as this one came.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Wow! So much feedback on the last chapter! Thank you so much. Anyway, this chapter is a bit heavy so be prepared. Also for those who are wondering how Puck reacted to Mrs. Sylvester's death, this chapter explains it. So keep leaving those reviews and I'll keep writing.

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Rachel_

Noah doesn't even know Mrs. Sylvester died. When I saw him in the hall this morning, I was going to tell him. But then I caught him with Quinn. Before our relationship started, I could understand. But I thought he liked me enough not to need someone else. I thought what we had was real.

I can't stand knowing I let Quinn have something that belonged to me. Quinn Fabray can take her perfect blonde hair and perfect dainty nose and jump in front of a bus for all I care. It hurts so badly to know I'll never be perfect.

I'm sitting in the nurse's office to prove it. Ever since Noah stood there frozen, gawking at the scars on my leg, I've been dying to get out of here. "Can I go back to class now?"

The nurse frowns at me. "I suppose. I've cleaned and bandaged everything but I'm afraid there might be some internal damage."

"I'm fine." I say harshly.

The nurse winces at my tone but nods once and lets me go.

I know why Noah came running over to me and acted all concerned. It's because he feels guilty that I overheard details about his relationship with Quinn. Dave was only telling the truth, that I was responsible for putting him in jail. Noah and I should never have started talking. We should have kept ignoring each other at Mrs. Sylvester's house cause if we didn't talk, I wouldn't be so connected to him. If we didn't talk, I wouldn't have kissed him and wanted more. I wouldn't have let him manipulate me.

The nurse doesn't look happy as I get down off of the examining table and carefully lower my pant leg. But I'm not going to sit here and sulk all day. I'm going to get up and stand up to all of them: Noah, Dave, Quinn, and anyone else who wants to get in my way.

When I'm dressed, I breathe a sigh of relief. My scars are covered. So why do I feel so exposed? It's because Noah has seen the scars from the injuries he put on my body. Those are the scars that will make me think of him and the accident every day of my life.

Unfortunately for me I have to pass Principal Figgin's office on my way out of the nurse's office. Noah is sitting slumped in a chair with his head in his hands. As if he can feel my eyes on him his head snaps up. His eyes bore into me as if they're seeking a connection. Does he think I'm a fool who wants to be humiliated? I look away, wait for the nurse to write me a pass, and leave the office as fast as I can.

As if the day couldn't get worse, Quinn and one of her cheerio drones are walking down the hall. They haven't seen me yet. I duck into the girls' bathroom. Staring at my reflection in the mirror I'm immediately draw to all my flaws. Dull brown eyes, tangled stringy hair, and a nose that's too big for my face. On top of all those flaws, I have a limp. How could I ever have thought I could compete with perfect Quinn Fabray?

The bathroom door creaks open. I hide in one of the stalls and soon enough I hear Quinn say, "I can't imagine the two of them kissing. Can you?"

"Ew, Q, don't gross me out. Puck is, like, a sex god and Rachel is a total dork. She probably kisses with her lips all pursed and her hands at her sides."

"Exactly. You should have seen her this morning. I thought she was going to cry right in the middle of the hall."

The two of them laugh and I want to die. Forget standing up to them, deep down I really am a dork and a coward.

I peek through the door opening. The girls are reapplying make-up and fixing their hair oblivious to the fact that I'm hearing every word of their conversation.

"He's always going to love you. You two have a bond that can't be broken," Quinn's lackey reassures her.

Quinn stops playing with her hair and leans against one of the sinks. "Puck told Finn he was interested in Rachel to throw him off."

"Why Rachel? Isn't she the least likely person to snag him? He did hit her with his car, you know, and she milks it for all it's worth."

Quinn hesitates.

"What, Q?"

"Did you check the stalls?"

Oh no. I'm dead meat. Balancing on top of the toilet seat with a bum leg is not an option. As I'm scrambling to come up with a way to not get caught, my thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice.

"You two are so pathetic. You should have looked before you tarted babbling about your pathetic lives."

It's Santana Lopez.

"What did you hear?" Quinn demands.

"What do you think? I heard everything."

"And you'll be keeping it ti yourself, right _Satan_?" Quinn spits hatefully.

Santana puts her hands on her hips. "I don't know. Why don't you stop spreading rumors about my best friend? She may limp, but she's got more to admire than both of you put together."

The other girls stare at Santana as if she had three heads..

"Get a grip, Santana. I could destroy you in a heartbeat."

I cover my ears in anticipation for what might go down in the bathroom. Quinn is fuming and I think Quinn's words are going to bring Santana down a notch, but my former friend doesn't miss a beat.

"Quinn, I used to worship the ground you walked on because you were pretty and popular and head cheerleader with a boyfriend the rest of us girls could only dream of. I wanted to be you but now I just think you're pathetic."

"Think about what you're doing Santana. Do you really want to be unpopular after all the hard work you put into getting to the top?" Quinn's eyes are wide and wild, and I think if she had superpowers they'd melt Santana with that one stare. But she doesn't have superpowers.

While Santana is sticking up for me and being threatened, I'm hiding out like a coward. My palms are sweaty. I realize it's my own fear holding me back. I watch my friend sticking up for me knowing the end result is not going to be pretty. I feel Mrs. Sylvester's spirit giving me courage.

I push the stall door open wide, the loud creak alerting all three to my presence. Santana's face is as shocked as Quinn's.

Quinn gives a nervous laugh, but recovers quickly. "Is this, like, the designated loser bathroom and I never got the memo?"

I hobble next to Santana. "You know Quinn, you and your drones have it all and yet you're both empty shells, nothing worthwhile on the inside."

"I think the accident damaged your brain." Quinn spits.

Santana is watching me in shock. I know I haven't been strong since the accident. I never stick up for myself and I focus on my flaws instead of my assets. Spending time with a strong woman like Mrs. Sylvester must have rubbed off on me and spending time with Noah the past few months has made me feel attractive and beautiful.

I can't believe he was lying to me. Everyday I could feel myself getting closer and closer to _Noah_ instead of _Puck. _His fingers trembled when he traced my lips or touched my face. A guy like Noah, who hides his emotions, couldn't fake those intense reactions even if he wanted to.

Quinn shakes her head and sneers at me. "If Puck gave you any attention, he just felt sorry for you."

He did at first but what we shared went way beyond that. "I wouldn't sneer if I were you," I say to Quinn. "It doesn't suit your face."

And with that I finally realizing something. Noah was right all along. New York was just a cop-out, a way to escape people and a way for me to forget the accident for a little while. But it did happen and I have to face the fact I will never be the same as before. Then it hits me.

I feel stronger and more alive than I did before the accident.

Seconds later Ms. Pillsbury walks into the girls bathroom. Her huge doe eyes get even wider. "Aren't you girls supposed to be in class?" She asks as she witnesses our confrontation.

No one answers her. Quinn and I are still in a heated stare and Quinn's sidekick keeps looking back and forth between us. Santana's mouth is still open in shock.

"Okay, then, why don't we all take a little trip to Principal Figgin's office so he can get to the bottom of this."

"Fine with me," I say.

"Me, too," Santana says, backing me up. I'll have to apologize to her and Brittany for the way I treated them after the accident. Sometimes you have to steer away from the crowd in order to be a better person and doing the right thing feels so good. Even if it does end up in a trip to the principal's office.

Quinn's eyes are still spitting fire. "Whatever."

"Yeah, whatever," Her clone says and we all exit the bathroom following Ms. Pillsbury down the hall.

Everything is starting to make sense again. It's not Quinn's fault she's beautiful and pretty. It's not even Noah's fault for being attracted to her. It doesn't even matter. What matters is that I'm not carrying around feelings of hatred and betrayal. It's been too exhausting. Mrs. Sylvester was right.

I don't hate Quinn

I don't hate Sarah

I don't hate Noah.

It's been a long time since I've felt like this. I feel happy and powerful. More than anything though, I feel strong.

* * *

_Puck_

Principal Figgin's motions for me to come into his office with a sharp nod. "Alright Mr. Puckerman, please tell me why you got into a fight with David Karofsky."

Sarah could be dragged into this, Quinn and Rachel too. I can't let that happen. "I don't know." I mumble pathetically.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you." Figgin's sighs dramatically. First I get a call from a parent telling me you coerced her son into consuming alcohol then the football coach at Carmel High tells me you injured one of their players badly enough to bench him for the entire season. You're on thin ice here, Mr. Puckerman. Unless you can explain yourself, I have no choice but to give you a suspension."

Suspension? Oh, shit, that's not good. I would defend myself, but it's no use. The guy wouldn't believe me, anyway, so I stay silent.

"You have nothing to say about these accusations?"

"Nope."

"Mr. Puckerman, have a seat outside while I figure out how to proceed with this."

So now I'm stuck in another metal chair outside Figgins' office.

I look up when the door to the front office opens. Rachel walks in the office, just feet from where I'm sitting. Only able to check her out from the side, I study her face. There's a look on it I can't quite figure out. Rachel's followed into the office by Quinn, Santana, and some cheerio who's name I can't even remember.

Ms. Pillsbury pokes her head into Principal Figgin's office. "We've had a situation with some of the senior girls." The girls head single file into his office. Quinn looks defiant, Santana is indifferent, and Rachel seems resolved to handle whatever comes flying at her.

The girls come out a few minutes later. Rachel doesn't look at me. She files out of the office with the rest of the girls.

"Alright Mr. Puckerman, you're turn." Figgins says to me.

When I get inside the room I sit down again. A million different thoughts are racing through my head. All I can think about is what's going to happen to me when I go back to the DOC? I hope mom and Sarah don't go over the edge.

I hear the clicking of shoes and look up. My mother is standing in the doorway of Figgins' office. Her lips are tight. I can sense she has a loose rein on control because I see her wobbling slightly from side to side.

"Ah, Mrs. Puckerman," Meyer says. "Thanks for coming so quickly."

Mom nods and holds onto the door frame. "So, should I take him home?"

Figgins walks up to my mom and puts his hand on her shoulder to steady her. "The boy whom your son assaulted has not filed any charges as yet, but policy forces me to keep him off school grounds until this is resolved. You'll get a call from me after I've consulted the district superintendent to inform you of the length of his suspension.

Mom nods, then focuses on me. She looks tired. The deep lines under her eyes and at the corners of her mouth look deeper than I've ever seen them. I put those lines there. Without meaning to, I've broken my mother's spirit.

In the car, I've got nothing to say. And when silent tears start dripping out of her tired eyes, all I want to do is escape. Because I can't tell her anything to make her feel better. I can't fight this snowball of bullshit that has become my life.

When I get home I head straight to my room. About a half hour later a familiar voice breaks me out of my thoughts. "Open up, Pucker." Coach Beiste calls to me.

I open the door and I can tell she's pissed. "Sup?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She yells. "Why on earth would you get into a fight at school? Do you want to go back to the DOC?"

"Sure. Slap those cuffs on me." I say holding out my wrists.

Coach's face turns bright red and she gets in my face. "Listen up. I have no problem slapping those cuffs on your wrists and hauling your ass back to prison. But I don't think you realize your eighteenth birthday is just around the corner. Then you know what happens? You get transferred to the big boy jail. That's right, the adult place where the inmates rule, and not one day will go by that you won't be threatened or forced to do shit you've only heard about. I don't want you in there, Puck, because you'll go in a confused smart-ass boy and come out a hardened bastard. They'll eat you alive there and nobody can save your ass. You hear me? Now tell me why the hell you got into that fight with Dave."

I'm so used to pleading guilty, I forget sometimes to tell the truth. "I was protecting Rachel, Karofsky insulted her."

Coach looks confused. "What are you doing? She's your victim. You hit her with your car."

"I didn't do it."

"What."

"I said I didn't mean to do it."

Coach leans toward me. "I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but it's not good. If you can't pretend Rachel doesn't exist, then leave town. She called my boss this morning expressing concern about her safety. She said you've been sexual with her, and now that it's over you've harassed her."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Coach gives me a look that says she's obviously not kidding. "Rachel Berry says she's filing a complaint. You didn't play by the rules so you'll have to suffer the consequences."

There's one thing I have to know. "Am I being sent back to the DOC?"

"Did you harass her?" She asks me.

"No!" I say. "We had a relationship, a mutual relationship. But it's over now, done.

"And how did it end?"

"Abruptly."

Coach Beiste sights and runs her fingers through her hair. She pulls a stack of papers from her bag and shows them to me. I got your release paper signed since you finished your community service."

I look at the papers seeing as though they're my saving grace but I can't stop thinking about Rachel. I thought what we had was something special but now I can only think that she decided to hook up with me for revenge. Oh hell.

After Coach leaves, I head to the kitchen. Mom is leaning against the sink. She's shaking as she takes a bunch of pills and swallows them with a gulp of water.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

"Taking medication for tension and stress."

Snatching the bottle off the counter top I take a closer look at the drug. My eyes widen in shock. "How long have you been taking these?"

"Give them back," she says, pulling the bottle from my hand and clutching them as if they hold her sanity.

"Mom, you could overdose on that shit. It's dangerous."

She laughs at me mockingly.

"So that's why you've been pulling away?" I ask her. "You've been avoiding getting close to me because you've become a closet pill popper?"

"Well it's not in the closet anymore!" She snaps at me. "I'm a failure aren't I? I'm a terrible wife, a terrible mother. Everyone thinks so!"

"Stop caring what everyone thinks!" I yell back.

"Did you think about your family when you hit Rachel Berry with your car?" She huffs at me disgusted.

"This isn't about me, mom." I say.

She shakes her head. "You don't get it Noah, do you? There are three people living in this house and we're all strangers. It all started when _you_ hit Rachel. It's all because of _you_."

I don't even know who I am anymore. I thought I did but with Rachel's betrayal I'm back to where I started.

I take a step toward my mom and wrap my arms around her. "Mom, you have to pull yourself together."

She fights against me. "Don't touch me!" She shrieks.

I let go and take a few steps back. My entire life is crashing around me and I don't know how to fix it. I turn around and race up the stairs stopping in front of my sisters door. "Open up, Sarah!" I yell.

"What!" She says through the door.

"Sarah, open up or I'll fucking break the door down."

She opens and I barge into her room. "How long has mom been abusing drugs?" I seethe.

"After your sentence." She shrugs. "It's off and on. She stops and then starts up again."

I grab her shoulders and shake her violently. "How can you just fucking stand there and act like it's no big deal?"

Sarah stares at me and cocks her head to the side, her gaze is blank and emotionless. "When she's numb she doesn't ask questions."

What the fuck? I stare at my sister as if she's a ghost, a shell of a person I once knew. "Do you even have a conscience anymore?"

She shrugs again.

I shake her again, harder this time and her eyes widen. "Get a fucking grip, Sarah. For once in your life can't you take responsibility for something, for anything?"

Tears are streaming down her face but I can't deal with that right now. Tears have always been my weakness but right now coming from Sarah they don't affect me in the slightest. She's sobbing once I leave and head down the street.

Before I know what I'm doing I find myself heading toward Mrs. Sylvester's house. I ring the doorbell, hoping she can hear it. The second time I ring the bell, the door opens but it's not Mrs. Sylvester who answers it. It's the scary cheerio coach from McKinley who also owns the diner down the street.

"Is Mrs. Sylvester home?" I ask.

"Puckerman." She greats me curtly. "How do you know my mother?"

"Um, I used to work for her." I say. "I helped her finish that gazebo."

She gives me a look. "Really?"

"Yep."

"From the look on your face I bet she knew you were the one that hit Rachel too. That's just like my mother, patching things up for people."

"Uh huh." I say agreeing with her. "Anyway I really need to see her."

"I'm sorry Puck but I'm afraid that won't be possible seeing as though she passed away yesterday morning."

No. No, this can't be happening. My life is already in shambles but I can feel in breaking into even small pieces.

"You best be on your way home." Sue says quietly and closes the door.

"Yeah." I say lowly. "Home."

* * *

_Rachel_

Mom's been incredibly over protective of me since everything went down after Mrs. Sylvester's death. Just last night Sue Sylvester handed me the keys to her mother's fancy black car saying it was what Mrs. Sylvester would have wanted.

Mom is constantly asking questions. "Are you sure your ready? Rachel, I know you've been so strong lately but I'm not sure if you're ready."

"Mom." I say placing my hands on her shoulders. "Relax, I'm ready. I just need some space."

It's time I tell her how I'm feeling. I've been trying to hold it in so I don't hurt her, when all along I think I'll hurt her more if I don't say anything.

I take a deep breath and say, "I know it's hard for you. It's been unbelievably difficult for me, but I'm finally ready to accept my body and my limitations. I might not be a perfect, but I'm okay with that. It's about time I stopped trying to escape my life, don't you think?"

A tear runs down my mom's cheek. She smiles at me, this warm smile that reaches her eyes. "The accident took away part of you."

"Only because I let it." I give her a long hug and she gets in her car and drives away from the house.

Taking a deep breath, I scan the yard. My eyes rake over the flower beds. The bulbs are patiently waiting in hibernation until it's their time to poke their heads out of the ground for the first time.

After yesterday, I feel like I've bloomed. It took a whirlwind romance and an eccentric old lady to coax me out of hibernation, but it happened.

As I'm carefully driving home, I see Noah at Lima Park. I want him to know that I'm not upset with him. I'll get over it in time. I'll have other boyfriends and adventures in life, other times I'll be able to feel confident and carefree and happy. I'm a survivor even with my limp.

Getting out of the car and gathering all my courage, I walk over to him. He sees me, but doesn't stop dribbling the ball.

"Noah!" I call out.

"Why didn't you tell me about Mrs. Sylvester?"

I stop in my tracks. "I didn't have a chance." I say quietly.

He scoffs. "You better stay back. I might start harassing you."

Okay, I deserved that. I was awful to him yesterday but that was before I straightened out everything.

"You come here to rub it in or challenge me to a game?" He asks.

I frown. "You know I can't play."

He smirks. "Oh you play, Rachel. Just not basketball. Your games or more complicated then that."

"What are you talking about?"

He just rolls his eyes and dribbles the basketball some more. "I can't believe after everything you're still afraid of me."

I open my mouth in shock. "I'm not afraid of you."

He stands before me with as much confidence as I'm showing him. "Oh yeah? Prove it."

My breath catches and I panic. "I, I don't know what you want."

"I think you do," He says, coming so close I can almost feel his emotions.

"You want me to kiss you?" I ask breathlessly.

"You've ruined me, you do know that don't you?" He says right before I stand on my tiptoes and touch my lips to his.

He grabs my waist and pulls me close so I can feel the full strength and length of his body against mine. My fingers wrap around his biceps at the same time. I'm lost in the protection of his embrace and the smell and taste that's uniquely Noah Puckerman.

As our kiss turns more intense, I sense a change in him. He's kissing harder, fuller, angry.

I stumble backwards and push him away from me. "What are you doing?"

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Making sure I scare you. It's what you want, isn't it? So you can claim being the victim."

He walks over and picks up the basketball "Go home, Rachel. You got what you came for."

Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, breaking the connection. It's Sarah.

"Noah, mom wants you home, now." She says.

I smooth down my hair, pat dirt off my pants, clear my throat, and do everything but look at the two of them. Then I run back to the car as fast as I can.

* * *

_Puck_

"You didn't tell her I hit her did you" Sarah asks me.

I shake my head.

"But I saw the way you looked at her. I knew–"

"Shut the fuck up Sarah." I interrupt. "I've had about enough of you."

When we get home, mom is waiting for us by the front door. "I saw Rachel coming from the park." She says to me as soon as we're within earshot.

"So? It's a free country. Rachel can go to the park whenever the hell she wants."

My mom clutches her arms around herself. " I just don't want to see you get into trouble. People talk..." She trails off.

"About what?"

She shakes her head. "Now is not the time or place to discuss it." Mom says, then starts to walk back into the house, no doubt to numb herself again.

"No." I say making her stop in her tracks. "Let's hash it out. Right here, right now."

"Noah!" She shrieks "Lower your voice."

"What are people saying, mom?"

"Nothing, Noah. Stop it."

I step into the middle of the front yard and say as loud as I can, "Are they saying I've been starting fights at school? Are they saying I'm harassing Rachel? Or how about that I make my friends drink alcohol? You think it's true, don't you?"

"Noah that's enough. Get inside" My mother says in the harshest tone I've ever heard her use.

I feel like a rubber band that's just been pulled tighter and tighter and finally I snap. "I'm not leaving this spot until everything's out on the table."

My mother gaps at me. "You live under my roof, Noah. That means you do as I say."

I swallow, hard. It's not easy for me to say the next words coming from my mouth, but I can't hold it in any longer. They're so ignorant and stupid. They think they can just live in their own made up world. It's fake and it makes me sick.

"I'm leaving." I say.

My thoughts turn to Rachel, the one girl who I used to think wasn't worth a second glance. But when it comes right down to it, she's the strongest girl I know. Everything we've been through together has made me a stronger person. When I'm with her, I'm the person I want to be.

"Where are you going?" My mother demands.

"Upstairs to pack my things." I tell her. "I'm tired of living in shame and denial."

"Everything changed after the accident. It's something that couldn't be helped."

I roll my eyes. "Fine, then. With me gone things can go back to the way they were. I would do anything to make this family normal again."

"Shouldn't you have thought of that before you hit Rachel?" She asks. "How can you be so selfish."

I walk past my mom and Sarah, heading to my room. Pulling out a bag, I stuff it without really thinking. I'm ready in a few minutes.

Hopefully when I'm gone my mom won't have to rely on drugs to help get through the day. Sarah can live her life the way she wants, with or without the truth.

I'm tired of trying to get my life back to normal. Normal doesn't exist for me anymore. I'm on my own.

Sarah is at the front door blocking it. "Don't leave, Noah?" She says. "Mom needs you, I need you."

I laugh. "Mom will be fine. Denial is something she's familiar with. As for you, I can't protect you anymore. It's time to protect yourself."

I move around her and walk outside. I have no clue where I'm going or what to do, but I feel free. Tossing my bag over my shoulder, I start walking. When I reach Rachel's house, I don't see her but I know she's inside. I give her a goodbye salute and keep walking.

Mrs. Sylvester's gazebo is where I spend the night and when a shoot star passes above me I smile.

I wonder if it's the old bat sending me a sign.

* * *

AN2: One more chapter left folks. It'll be a short one but it will definitely be the end of this story. If you're not happy with the ending just remember I said that the next chapter is the end of _this_ story. What does that mean you ask? Well I guess you'll just have to leave a review and see for yourself.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Last chapter folks. It's a short one. I'm sure it's not what you had in mind but work with me. All will be revealed soon enough.

Disclaimer: I realize that neither Glee nor _Leaving Paradise _belongs to me. I'm simply borrowing the characters and the plot to create a brand new story.

* * *

_Rachel_

Noah kissed me last night and I kissed him back.

I can't believe it happened and I can't stop thinking about. My lips are red and swollen, reminding me of how Noah's kiss was hot and demanding. To be honest, I wanted to push him away, to make him want me like I wanted him and to reject him like he rejected me.

But I just couldn't.

All those feelings from my childhood came back, when Noah and I were friends. I can't even forget the times he patted my back while I was crying to Sarah about my parents' divorce. For the past year, the accident ruled my life and molded me into who I've become.

Things are different now. I've taken back my life.

Sitting on my bed I roll my pant legs up as far as I can. I scan my scars carefully. I used to think of them as angry scars, but not anymore. They aren't even scary. I trace the lines with my fingers, and I don't even wish they'd disappear. I'm finally to a point where I've accepted that they're a part of me.

I close my eyes and concentrate hard, remembering the accident. It's so strange to think about that night without massive emotions running rampant through my veins. My memories are much clearer then they were before. Images of the accident flash through my brain. One image in particular, the one of Noah driving the car that hit me, is outlined in my head. But something doesn't feel right. I concentrate harder and the image starts to shift.

Chill run up and down my spine.

As I shut my eyes tight, the image of the driver becomes clearer and the foggy haze that's always been in the way dissipates.

It's Sarah with a look of horror and fear in her eyes as she loses control of the car.

Sarah was the one who hit me that night, not Noah.

My mind is racing. Why would he–? And how could she–? My thoughts are bouncing around my scull. I think I'm going to be sick. I don't have to though because my mother is calling me.

I almost fall down as I greet a man and a woman wearing matching dark navy suits. "Rachel, we're from the Ohio Juvenile Department of Corrections. We're here to investigate the complaint you made regarding Noah Puckerman."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Complaint? What complaint? I didn't file a complaint."

The woman opens her briefcase and pulls out a folder. "We have documentation saying you contacted our department complaining to the operator that Mr. Puckerman was harassing you."

Oh my God. I shake my head and look to my mom. "I didn't call, mom, I swear."

"Are you sure, Rachel?" The man asks. "You don't have to lie, we're here to protect you."

I stand up. "I'm not lying. I didn't complain about Noah. We're friends."

"Please excuse my daughter." My mom intervenes. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. She's been instructed not to have any contact with that boy. Isn't that right, Rachel?"

I bite down on my bottom lip. "Mom..."

"Rachel?"

Now it all makes sense. Last night at the park and the way he reacted when he saw me. Oh, how he must hate me, thinking I'd call and complain when I would never do anything to hurt him. Quinn would hurt him though. "I have to go see him."

"Rachel come back here!"

I hobble over to the Puckermans' house before anyone can stop me. Mrs. Puckerman answers the door.

"Is Noah home?" I ask frantically. "I know you probably hate me for sending your son to jail but I really really need to talk to him. It's important."

"He's gone." She tells me totally unfazed by the words coming from her mouth. She even has a strange smile on her face. "Noah left."

By now my mom has followed me over to the house with the investigators in tow. Mom takes a long hard look at Mrs. Puckerman. "Delilah, what's wrong?" She asks her.

As soon as my mom says it, Mrs. Puckerman's eyes roll into the back of her skull and she falls right into my mom's arms. My mom screams and the two investigators help her carry Mrs. Puckerman into the house. "I think she passed out." I hear the female investigator chirp.

As they're taking care of Mrs. Puckerman, I step back. What did she mean when she said Noah was gone? Where could he have gone? I rush home, grab my keys and drive to Mrs. Sylvester's house. I check every single place where he could possibly be and there's no sign of him.

All along, I blamed Noah for hitting me, without questioning his guilt. How could I have been so stupid? He pleaded guilty, but deep down I've always known there was something strange about him. I thought it was a lack of remorse for hitting me, when all along it was a lack of guilt.

My heart feels like it's breaking into pieces as I drive around Lima. I'm looking for Noah or at least something that will tell me where he went. Before I know it I'm driving to the place where it all began.

I'm driving to the scene of the accident.

There are skid marks from the car still on the curb that send shivers down my spine. I haven't been able to stomach coming back here since the night of the accident. I step out of the car and walk over to the edge of the curb, staring at the marks that have plagued my nightmares for a year. I fear they'll never disappear and continue to haunt me for the rest of my life along with my physical scars.

But I know the truth now. Sarah and Noah have been suffering from the emotional scarring the accident has caused them. Even though I feel betrayed they kept the truth from me, I have an overwhelming desire to help them, just as Noah helped me. The most important thing I've learned the past few months is that people you love can get you through the toughest of times. All three of us need each other. I miss having Sarah as my best friend. Not to mention the love I have for Noah is the forever kind that will never go away, no matter how hard I try to deny it.

"Rachel?"

I turn around. Noah is leaning out the window of a black car with a guy I've never seen before. The car stops a few feet in front of me and Noah gets out of the car. He's carry a bag on his back and his expression is unreadable.

"I needed you to know that I didn't file that complaint about you." I blurt out suddenly. "These investigators came to my house today to follow up on it but I didn't know what they were talking about because I never filed it. Then when I realized you must have thought I did I–"

Noah covers my lips with his hands and I stop mid rant. "I doesn't matter anymore." He says.

"Of course it matters! I trust you. Isn't that what it's been about? Trust?" To prove my point I bend down and jerk my pant legs up baring my scars to him.

His brows knit together and he winces as if her were the one who put them there. I cover his hand with mine and trace the lines of my scars as they go in every direction on my leg. "Don't you get it? I'm done hiding. I don't want to anymore and I need you to feel the same way. No more secrets or lies." I'm waiting for him to tell me the truth. I want to here the truth directly from his lips to my ears.

"Yo, dude. You ready to go yet?" The guy in the car asks Noah.

"Who's that?" I ask.

"Jesse."

I quirk an eyebrow in confusion. "I mean who is he?"

He shakes his head. "You don't want to know, Rachel. Listen, I got to get going."

I look up into his intense hazel eyes and come to an understanding. I know he's never going to give away the secret he's been holding inside for the past year. That fierce, protective spirit is a part of him and something he'll never be able to let go of.

"Where are you going? When will you be back?" I ask desperately.

He shakes his head. "I'm not coming back."

Looking into his eyes, I know he means what he's saying but I don't want to believe it. My eyes start to water and tears roll down my cheeks. "You can't leave me. Not now. Not after everything that's happened!" I want to beg and plead and cry until he changes his mind. I want to sing with him in glee club and watch him play his guitar for hours tomorrow, the next day, and every day after that.

He swipes the tears with his fingers. "Then come with me."

And just like that the tables have turned. "But I realized you were right. Going to New York was just a cop-out. I'm going to stay in Lima until I graduate, and save the money Mrs. Sylvester gave me for college."

"Puckerman, you coming or not?" The guy in the car asks impatiently.

Noah nods and says, "Yeah, I'm coming."

I lean in, touch his forehead to mine, and grip his biceps desperately. "At least tell me what we had was real," I whisper. "I deserve that, don't I."

Noah claps my head between his hands, enclosing us into our own private world. "As real as it gets. Don't ever question that, no matter what. Okay?"

"Really? Because right now I'm questioning everything. Why did I even come here?"

"Because you're ready to start a new life, Rachel. You're free of the past now. It can't hurt you anymore and neither can I."

I'm sobbing silently and I can't get the tears to stop no matter how hard I try.

Noah shakes his head. "Being free for me means getting out of Lima." Leaning in he kisses me, so soft and warm I have a hard time believing it's really him.

"Free." I repeat the word out loud. "We're both free now?"

He nods once, unable to put his thoughts into words.

I know this is probably the last time I'll ever see him again. Knowing Noah, he'll never write or call. He's going to cut all ties with his family and this little town that's caused him so much grief and that includes me.

God, how I wish Noah never pled guilty to hitting me. Although if it hadn't happened Noah and I might never have been together.

I wouldn't have changed _that_for anything.

He steps back and winks at me. "Bye, baby."

"I'm not going to say it back to you, you know," I tell him.

He gives a short laugh and keeps retreating backwards. "Then tell me something I can remember as your last words to me. Tell me you love me. Tell me you'll think of me every night before you sleep. Tell me–"

"The red hen has flown the coop!" I scream.

He laughs. "I'll always remember , the gazebo, the flowers, you and me." Noah winks at me one more time and turns around and walks into the car. I want to scream at him for leaving me. I want to tell him that we should live in the streets together because as long as we're a team, nothing can stop us.

But he never did tell me it was Sarah who hit me. After everything he said about me not trusting him, in the end it was him who didn't trust me...or himself.

My head is pounding and my eyes sting from all the crying. My heart hurts, more than my leg ever had.

"Noah!" I yell right before he slides into the passenger seat and closes the car door. I hold my breath, waiting for him to get out of the car and tell me he'll stay but he doesn't. The car pulls away from the curb and zooms away so quickly my head spins.

I head back home and by the end of the drive I've stopped crying. There's strength within me I didn't know existed before. It's as if Mrs. Sylvester is nudging me to stay strong.

When I pull into my driveway I can see Sarah sitting on her front porch. Her eyes are puffy and she's shaking slightly.

I walk over. "How's your mom?" I ask.

"She's fine. Your mom's with her." She shrugs.

I nod. It's not much but it's a step in the right direction. It's about time we took down the invisible fence that's been built between us.

"You saw him didn't you." Sarah says to me.

"I did."

She holds her arm over her eyes and starts to sob. "I need to tell you something really, really important. But I can't look at you while I do it."

I take her arm and lower it. "You don't have to tell me right now." I say.

"You're going to hate me, Rachel."

"No I'm not. I know what it is Sarah."

"You do?" She asks, completely bewildered.  
"Uh huh, but let's just say our friendship means more to me than holding a grudge." I say. "Not to mention I'm tired of living in the past. In fact, you know what helps me forget?"

"What?"

"A pie run."

Sarah gives me a small smile behind her tears. "You're kidding me right?"

"Nope. Let's go drive to the diner with our moms. I think they could use some pie, too."

* * *

AN2: And there you have it, the end...or is it? Do I smell something? Oh yes! It smells like a sequel! How could you possibly think I'd leave it at that? I'm a sucker for a happy ending. Anyways if you're interested in seeing how it all plays out add me to your author alerts and look out for my new story, _Return to Lima_, coming soon!


End file.
